


Hard Bargain

by batmanbane



Category: The Dark Knight Rises
Genre: F/M, the dark knight rises - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-04-20 03:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21943693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batmanbane/pseuds/batmanbane
Summary: In the wake of his occupation of Gotham City, Bane is determined to take his place in history as the mastermind who succeeded in destroying Gotham, instead of becoming a footnote to the infamy of Talia al Ghul. Can a woman who represents all he despises about Gotham help him achieve his goal?
Relationships: Bane/OC, Barsad/Talia
Comments: 17
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

Inside a 30th floor suite at Gotham's renowned Hotel Waverley, an adulterous union abruptly came to an end as Christopher Ainsley-Wood pulled out of his partner, slapped her naked thigh and raised himself from the bed.

"Thanks, Babe," he said callously.

"Hey wait a minute, we're not done here, Chris," she whined. "I didn't —"

"I'm sorry, Cassie," he interrupted gruffly. "Didn't I tell you? Mayor Garcia invited me to his box for today's game. I don't want to miss the opening kickoff."

"No, you did not tell me! What was the point of us even coming here if only for an hour? I wanted today to be special, to order room service and spend the afternoon in bed together," she pouted. "Now I feel like a whore."

"Cassie, it can't always be about what you want, alright? If we're going to continue to see one another you'll have to be more like my wife and learn not to complain."

Christopher reached for his clothing and headed for the opulent bathroom, leaving his disappointed lover alone in the king-sized bed.

"I wasn't complaining," Cassandra protested after he had emerged, showered and dressed. "I just wish I'd known. Maybe we could have put it off for better day."

"This is my hotel suite," he said testily as he sat on the bed to put on his socks and shoes. "I have a house account here. Stay as long as you like and order room service if that's what you want!"

"Now you're angry again! Talk to me, Chris." She rose up behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her naked breasts against his back and laying her head on his shoulder.

"Did you argue with your wife again? Did she make you angry this morning?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he muttered.

"Then divorce her," Cassandra whispered. "I'll be a much better wife to you."

"That's not going to happen," he scoffed as he shrugged her off and reached for his suit jacket. "My family would never accept you."

Cassandra frowned. "You mean…because they're racist."

"I wouldn't go that far, Cassie. It's just that they're old-school. They believe people should stick to their own kind, and they expect certain refinements in a wife. It's lucky for you I don't share their beliefs."

Cassandra's lip trembled as Christopher buttoned his beautifully-tailored suit jacket. It was then that she noticed the damage to his right hand.

"Your knuckles are bruised. What happened?"

"Don't fuss, Cassie," he admonished, irritable again. "Why do you have to be so inquisitive? It's nothing. I slammed the door on my hand."

"Here then, let me kiss it better…"

"You know, you really have to do something with this hair," he said, as he pulled roughly on her mop of curly bleached blonde hair. "Wear it up or tie it back, but don't walk around looking like you just got laid!"

Cassandra was rendered speechless by his ugly words. Two big tears rolled down her cheeks. Sometimes he was impossible to please.

"Now look, I'm sorry we quarrelled," Christopher sighed as he kissed her on the forehead and wiped her tears away. "I have to go now. I'll call you later?"

"Bye," she murmured forlornly as she heard the suite door close.

She sobbed quietly into the sheets for a time, until she steeled herself and rose out of bed to retrieve the room service menu from the desk. She was determined to order champagne and caviar for lunch, neither of which she had ever tasted before.

As she put the phone down, she noticed Christopher's billfold and cellphone on the desk. He had mistakenly left them behind, and it was far too late to catch up to him.

—

An hour later Gotham City was invaded by an army of mercenaries. They were led by a charismatic, muscle-bound masked man who announced himself by blowing up much of the infrastructure of the city, including major roads, tunnels and bridges. The explosions began at Rogues Stadium, just after kickoff at a game between the Rogues and the Rapid City Monuments. To the horror of the sold-out stadium, an entire section of the field imploded and a row of elite skyboxes burst into flames.

Dressed in a sheepskin coat, the masked man strode out to the edge of the sunken field to address the crowd. He was accompanied by armed men who rolled a live neutron bomb out onto the field. He also held a prisoner — a scientist who was the only man who could diffuse the bomb. To cement his hold on Gotham, he shocked the crowd by killing the scientist and threatening detonation if anyone tried to leave the city. He then sent the traumatized crowd home under martial law, with the promise of more to come.

The next day, the tyrant offered up his manifesto at the gates of Blackgate Prison. After exposing the villainy of Harvey Dent and Commissioner James Gordon, he blew open the prison's massive metal gates. As the armed and jubilant inmates flooded the streets, he preached anarchy. The rich and corrupt were to be cast out of their homes, spoils were to be enjoyed, and a civilian army would be raised. No one would interfere with the people's lawlessness. Most emphatically, he insisted that Gotham would survive.

He then climbed into his armed vehicle and returned to City Hall, where he had chased out staff and installed his own men.

—

Later that same day, a distraught woman somehow managed to evade the throng of mercenaries who now guarded City Hall.

Dried blood stained her displaced nose. Her left eye was black, blue and bloodshot. Her swollen lips were split in two places and there were bruises along her jaw and at the base of her neck.

Determinedly, she pushed through the lobby past the mercenaries and charged up the stairs towards the mezzanine.

Given her wounded and disoriented state, the mercenaries believed that she was fleeing the anarchy in the streets. In the lobby, a man named Dolan calmly spoke into his walkie-talkie.

"Deranged woman coming your way, brother. Black eye and a broken nose."

Static was heard over the walkie talkie as the man on the other end of the conversation replied.

The young woman tripped and staggered on the top stair before managing to right herself. She looked around frantically until she was stopped by a bearded mercenary armed with an assault rifle pointed directly at her.

"Halt," he shouted. "This isn't public property any more. It belongs to Bane now. Trespassers will be shot on sight!"

"No… no, don't shoot. Please don't shoot," she begged in a small voice, cowering to her knees and covering her head with her arms.

"I'm counting to five, then I'm going to blow that busted nose clean off your face."

"Wait, please! Is…is that his name? Bane? May I speak to him, please?"

The corners of the man's thin lips drew up, and a cruel giggle burst forth from his throat.

"May you speak to him?" He mimicked once his laughter had died down. "No, you may not, lady!"

Without warning his hands were all over her, patting her down in search of a weapon, lingering on her firm breasts and the sweet spot between her legs.

"Nice," he murmured.

The woman stiffened, wincing while the mercenary molested her. When he was done, he raised the barrel of his rifle once more.

"Last chance, sister. Go back the way you came. My guys will escort you out."

"Wait! You have every right to be cautious," she exclaimed, "but I didn't come here to kill anyone. Your masked man did me a favour yesterday."

"What do you mean by that?" The mercenary demanded, suddenly curious. "Bane doesn't do favours."

"Can't you allow me to tell him myself? He's a cruel man. He might appreciate what I have to say, because I suppose…I suppose it's warped."

"Warped, huh?" He swatted her hard in the mouth and shoved her. The woman fell to the floor, and moaned softly as fresh blood poured from her split lip.

Disgusted, the mercenary picked her up by the collar of her expensive tweed coat, and dragged her offside the common area.

Her head rolled as she caught sight of another figure — a giant whose presence blocked the skylight above. Here was the man she had come to see. He was the masked monolith who had commandeered both the stadium and Blackgate Prison.

She stared at him, consumed by stark terror. He was half man, half monster, and she instantly regretted her decision to seek him out.

A low hissing sound of enhanced respiration sounded, and then the giant spoke.

"What is this?" he asked, robotized voice brimming with annoyance. "Why is she here?"

"Who are you?" the bearded man demanded as he kicked the woman's side. "You never told me your name! We gotta have names here!"

Slowly she lifted her head, rolled over and raised herself on her elbows.

"My name is Parker… Parker Ainsley-Wood," she replied as she brushed her long brown hair out of her eyes.

"Stop wasting our time, lady! Why do you say Bane did you a favour?"

She stumbled to her feet with an effort that took some time, much to the annoyance of both men. Gripping the high-heeled shoes that had slipped from her feet, she directed her terrified gaze at Bane.

"Thank you, Mr. Bane," she gasped, "for what you did for me at the stadium yesterday. You…you saved my life!" Her cultured tones began to squeak uncontrollably. "You set me free." Tears flowed and she lowered her head, deeply ashamed of showing emotion in front of the villain.

Bane did not look directly at her, nor did he respond right away. Instead, his attention was focused on the mezzanine windows behind her, as if she were not even there.

She was about to turn away and retreat down the stairs when he finally responded.

"And how did I save your life?" The rough, metallic tones of his voice echoed throughout the common area. She recognized the same unusual cadence from the news broadcasts, except now he sounded far less friendly.

"When you blew up the stadium, sir, you killed my husband. He was one of the guests…in Mayor Garcia's box. He didn't call or come home last night. The news reports say that everyone in the box was incinerated in the blast."

Bane digested the information and glanced at her briefly.

"If you are grateful to me for killing your husband, then it was he who inflicted these wounds upon you," he concluded.

"He beat me within an inch of my life yesterday, and tried to strangle me. He would have killed me next time," she declared, wiping tears mixed with blood from her face with the sleeve of her coat. "I owe you my life. I owe you everything. Whoever you are, no matter what you've done, I want you to know that."

"Enough," Bane bellowed, turning away from her. "Throw her back into the street where she belongs." He then gestured to the floor with his massive forefinger. "And clean up this blood."

"Alright, out you go!" the bearded mercenary ordered, grabbing her arm and hustling her away from Bane. As he pushed her down the stairs he was met head on by a man dressed in hospital fatigues.

"Hey, hey, hey! What the hell is this, Barsad," the man demanded as he observed Parker.

"Bane ordered me to throw her out. She's a high-society dame from uptown. Managed to get by our guys to see Bane."

"Well, she's not going anywhere just yet. My arrangement with Bane stipulates that I work as a doctor without borders. This woman needs medical attention. She'll get it from me no matter who she is."

"Deals are made to be broken, as I'm sure Bane warned you. Sooner or later you're gonna overstep your bounds with me, Doc. When you do, I'll be waiting," Barsad sneered.

The doctor stared down the mercenary, unfazed by his threat. He was bigger than Barsad and closer to Bane in size.

"And you better hope you never get hurt during this occupation, because if you do you'll go to the bottom of the list for treatment, no matter how critical or how painful."

Barsad smirked. "Nah, that'll never happen. You may have lost your medical licence, but you still got rules," he heckled.

"Big shooter with an even bigger mouth," the doctor countered calmly. "You're nothing without that rifle. Just a scrawny little guy who I could take with one arm tied behind my back!"

Before Barsad could lunge at him, both men were chastened by a long shadow of disapproval looming above.

Bane had observed the entire exchange between them.

"Take your patient to the infirmary if you must, Dr. Velez," the masked man boomed irritably. "Don't let me see you engaging my men again, or else your saintly mother will learn the truth about you!"

The doctor glanced warily at Bane. "Come with me ma'am. We'll get you fixed up." He brushed past Barsad and steered the bewildered Parker back up the stairs.

—

Parker's eyes fluttered open to unfamiliar surroundings.

"Well hey, Parker," Dr. Velez said brightly. "You slept a good twelve hours."

"Where am I," she asked groggily as she raised herself from the hard bed and immediately noted that she was dressed in an unflattering cotton hospital gown.

"You're still at City Hall. It's four o'clock in the morning. When you arrived here yesterday you were injured and dehydrated. I put you on a drip, gave you a sedative, set your nose and cleaned you up."

"Oh, of course," she said, vaguely recalling the doctor rescuing her from the bearded man, and being treated for her wounds. "You're Dr…Velez? Since when is there a hospital at City Hall?"

"Bane declined to occupy the city's hospitals because he doesn't have the manpower to police them. Instead, he set up a temporary medical facility here to treat his injured men."

Parker observed the makeshift hospital around her. She was in a large, bright room. Curtained racks divided hospital beds, but she couldn't tell if there were any other patients.

"I need to visit the ladies' room," she said apologetically as she climbed out of the uncomfortable bed.

"I'll bet you do," the doctor replied cheerfully. "You have two bags of saline solution in you. Washroom's down the hall to your right."

Once she had voided her bladder, Parker stared at her reflection in the long washroom mirror, freshly horrified by the damage inflicted by her husband. He had hit her many times before, but with the latest incident he had risen to a new level of violence.

"If you're done with me, I'll get dressed. I really must go home," she said as she returned from the washroom. "I want to sleep for a week."

"You get back into bed," the doctor ordered firmly. "Given your injuries, I want to monitor you for a few more hours to make sure you don't have a concussion. And anyway, it's too dangerous out there in the dark, what with all the anarchy. Bane lifted martial law, and the gang he riled up at Blackgate has been tossing people like you out of their homes and into the street all night long."

"What do you mean 'people like me'?" she frowned.

"Rich people," he replied bluntly.

Parker clutched the neckline of her hospital gown. It was all coming back to her now. She'd watched Bane's speech at Blackgate, but the news of Christopher's fate had understandably distracted her.

Her eyes regarded the muscular doctor curiously. "Tell me, Dr. Velez, why is a nice doctor like you working for a man like Bane?"

"I'm a gynaecologist by trade," he replied without hesitation. "I slipped up — I had a fling with one of my patients. She was angry when I broke it off, accused me of seducing her and reported me to the medical board."

"I see," she murmured, pausing to think of her own cheating husband. "Was it worth it?"

"I lost my wife, my kids and my license. And now I work for Bane. You tell me," he shrugged.

He settled into a chair opposite her bed and observed her with interest. "Now that you know my secret, how about you tell me yours? Who did this to you? Who beat you up?"

Parker sighed, at first intending to tell another version of the same old story — that she had fallen, or collided with a door. But there was no point in hiding it any longer, and she had already told Bane.

"It was my… my husband."

"I thought so," he nodded. "I just wanted to hear it from you. You weren't very talkative last night."

Resigned to telling the truth, Parker sighed nervously before continuing.

"Christopher – that's my husband – he was invited by the mayor to the Rogues game. Yesterday I saw a news report that said the mayor was killed along with the guests in his skybox — all burned beyond recognition in the explosion. I was traumatized the whole day because Christopher had tried to strangle me, and I was so grateful that it would never happen again that I rushed here to thank Bane. He ordered his men to throw me out, and that's when you found me."

"Jesus! So yesterday you were relieved to hear that your husband was dead. How do you feel about it now?"

—

Elsewhere at City Hall, the masked mercenary settled into the desk chair in the mayor's office as Barsad entered. Neither man had slept, preferring to closely monitor the street violence encouraged by Bane the previous day.

"Check this out, Bane," Barsad said as he grasped the remote and raised the volume on the massive video screen that lined the wall opposite the mayor's desk.

"Gotham City News has now acquired a list of the three guests who were expected to attend the Mayor's skybox. Missing and presumed dead along with Mayor Garcia are 40 year-old Alex Khadri, 48 year-old Jimmy Albertini, and 30 year-old Christopher Ainsley-Wood, all of Gotham City. It's tragic news for the families of the victims. As many of our viewers may be aware, the Ainsley-Wood family is one of the original founding families of Gotham."

"How about that? Uptown girl was telling the truth," Barsad exclaimed. "You killed her husband and all she wanted was to thank you for it. And here I was thinking that she came to scratch your eyes out with her manicured nails, all because of what you'd done to Gotham."

"No one is to breach the main doors again," Bane ordered coldly. "Anyone who attempts to ascend the main stairs will be shot on sight, be it man, woman or child."

"I already told the guys downstairs." He was used to anticipating and carrying out Bane's orders, and took particular pride in reading his commander well.

"The husband was a handsome guy," the sniper observed as photos of the skybox victims rotated on the screen. "A rich, blonde, blue-eyed pretty boy asshole who beat his wife!"

Bane leaned back in the mayor's desk chair, spreading his rough palms along the edge of the expansive desk, and feeling a new power course through his veins.

"That is precisely why it is necessary for Gotham to die. Men like him have corrupted this city to its core," he mused as he frowned upon the photo of Christopher Ainsley-Wood.

He turned to his laptop, soon learning that Ainsley-Wood came from a family of financiers, but had quickly established himself in his own company as a ruthless hedge fund manager. Bane's mask hummed with interest as he read further into the man's life and reputation.

His spouse Parker was known more for her charity work rather than her presence on Gotham's dazzling social scene. Following her lavish wedding, she had gradually withdrawn from the limelight.

Bane reasoned that her privacy was understandable, given that her husband beat her. He scanned her photos impassively, noting that without the bruises and broken nose she was a natural brunette beauty. Of course, she would be nothing less.

He then proceeded to read an account of the couple's wedding. The heirs to two of Gotham's oldest and wealthiest families joined together at historic St. Andrew's Church, followed by a sumptuous evening reception at Wilkinson's Farm. The bride was resplendent in a spectacular Vera Wang wedding gown…

Beneath the mask, Bane sneered at the ridiculous description.

They were Gotham royalty, and fairy-tale weddings like theirs were met with great anticipation. Such occasions allowed the people to live vicariously through the display of wealth and privilege.

There would be no more of that now. If Bane had communicated his message properly at Blackgate, the people now understood that the upper classes had held them down with myths of opportunity. It was time for the people to fight back.

Bane's reverie was suddenly interrupted by Barsad's voice.

"Let's go, brother. Talia will be waiting."

—

"Congratulations, Bane. The work you accomplished over the past few days is nothing short of exemplary. Of course, I expect nothing less from you. You started a fire under the people, and brought the wealthy and powerful to their knees."

Bane had arranged to meet with his exotic partner-in-crime in the ancient wooden freight elevator at the rear of City Hall, which he had taken out of service for their meeting. Barsad stood outside the elevator door, safeguarding the two senior members of the League of Shadows.

Dressed in the clothing of her alter ego Miranda Tate, Talia al Ghul wore a navy double-breasted jacket, black pants and boots. It was sensible clothing that was consistent with Miranda's situation, as she was now forced to live in the offices of the Wayne building.

Bane nodded once, acknowledging her praise while fully anticipating criticism.

"However, I was shocked to learn the news of John Daggett's murder," she continued. "I trust I have you to thank for that."

"His money and infrastructure were important, but he knew too much and his erratic behaviour had become a threat to us," Bane observed calmly. "He gave us what we wanted. We had no further use for him."

"We've talked about this before, Bane. You have a history of disobeying me or failing to consult with me. Daggett's death was not your call."

Bane thoroughly enjoyed the times when Talia became angry with him, because it was then that he could see how much she felt truly threatened by his power. Ever since Bane and his mercenaries set up shop in the tunnels months ago, he and Talia had been locked in a silent battle over who would be remembered as the true mastermind behind the destruction of Gotham.

He'd done all the heavy lifting, and yet he knew that Talia would ride the wave of victory all the way back to the League's base once their work was done.

She would have help in that regard. The League of Shadows valued subtlety above all else, and Talia practised the delicate art of deception. Bane was only too aware that within the walls of the League of Shadows, he was defined by his brutality. He had used every part of his body as a means to kill at one time or another – his hands, his knees, his elbows, his feet, his forehead.

Who would remember him for his fine military mind and brilliant dictatorial skills. Who would remember his masterful oratory? Talia might grudgingly acknowledge him in one of her charitable moments, but Ra's al Ghul's old guard would continue to see him merely as monstrous, masked muscle.

That was going to all change, if Bane got his way. He just needed a plan.

"Your impulsiveness has cost us money, and we will be five months here," she hissed. "What are you doing about finding us a new benefactor?"

"Do not worry, my dear Talia," he assured her in a lazy tone. "Daggett's death does not impoverish us. I have resources, and in a few days I will deliver you a new revenue stream."


	2. Chapter 2

Although he was concerned for her well-being, Dr. Velez reluctantly allowed Parker to leave Bane's makeshift hospital at City Hall.

Out on the street she was shocked to see the level of looting and damage occurring along the half hour walk home. The citizens of Gotham had gone mad, and all with Bane's permission.

The doctor had said that the mob was targeting the wealthy, so she was under no illusion that her own home had been spared. Her stomach clenched as she approached the building where she lived.

She wasn't surprised to see that the lobby had been completely destroyed. Mirrors were smashed and planters were overturned. There was no sign of the concierge, and his opulent desk lay in pieces.

A rough looking man who had apparently appointed himself elevator operator, demanded $100 per lift.

"No, I'll walk," Parker replied, shocked by his attempt at extortion. "What happened to the concierge?"

"He's up there somewhere. We, uh, convinced him to unlock all the apartment doors," the man replied ominously.

Upstairs, the door of her suite was open, and she recognized the sound of hammering and urgent voices coming from the study. She tiptoed inside and quietly located Christopher's gun in the hall drawer. By a stroke of luck, the thieves had not found it.

A teenaged boy who had been trying to break into the safe dropped his hammer when he spotted Parker in the doorway of the study, aiming a gun at he and his fellow looters.

"Get out!" Parker frowned. Her gun hand shook as she waved them out of the study, hoping she sounded more authoritative than she felt.

The young intruders rushed past her, practically trampling one another to get out of her way. She was glad they were relatively harmless children rather than the adult mobs she'd seen out on the street.

Once they were gone, she tearfully confronted the wreckage of her home. Parker roamed from room to room, each one revealing a new horror. All of her good things had been smashed to smithereens. China, crystal and glass lay in pieces everywhere, as did the Murano chandelier. Bathroom fixtures were damaged, shower doors cracked, and her bed was broken. Closets were looted, and there was graffiti everywhere.

She locked the suite door and shoved a chair under the handle to brace it. In the bedroom, she pulled the mattress off the bed, wrapped herself in the torn goose down duvet and lay down to sleep fully clothed.

She needed to forget, if only for a little while.

#####

Parker spent the next few days sweeping up layers of rubble, and making her suite as habitable as possible. It was difficult work, but it helped distract her from her thoughts.

Dr. Velez's probing questions had lingered in her mind to the point that her emotions wavered in the wake of Christopher's death. Their marriage had begun well, before he gradually became controlling. He had convinced her to quit her job in order devote her time to charity, because he said it was a good for his image. He was suspicious of every man that crossed her path, and demanded that she dress elegantly at all times, especially in the event he brought home unexpected guests for dinner. Eventually he transitioned from controlling behaviour to harsh words and hitting.

Parker wondered if the tensions in the marriage were her fault. The more she tried, the more she failed, and she had begun to think that she just wasn't good enough for him. Pleasing Christopher had come at the cost of her own identity, and saddled her with overwhelming stress and anxiety.

Over the past few days there were moments when she genuinely grieved for him, and remembered the good times. He could be charming, generous and attentive. Weeks would often pass without him ever becoming verbally abusive or violent.

But on this morning, she was haunted by the savage beating he had inflicted on her the day he died, and once again she hated him and was relieved he was gone.

Barsad brought the lumbering tumbler to a halt outside an exclusive uptown address. He and Bane were on a mission, responding to the demands of their commander in chief, who wasn't pleased that Bane's murder of John Daggett had left them in need of a new investor.

Bane had taken Talia's anger with a grain of salt, but he had quickly formulated a plan. He had promised her a new source of revenue, and today was the day he would present it to her.

"I don't like this, Bane," Barsad complained. "Why don't we just rob a bank?"

"Too many logistics involved," Bane replied. "Our hard work is over now that the taking of the city is complete. We are Gotham's caretakers now."

"What logistics? We only need you, me and maybe one other guy to hold up a bank."

"No, brother. I have already decided that we will do this quietly." Bane was in the mood to play, and his plan was to collect a debt from a wealthy woman of Gotham, one who had stumbled across his doorstep a few days previously.

"You should have had another Daggett in your back pocket," Barsad said. "We shouldn't be fraternizing with the locals unless they have Daggett's international connections."

"There are no other Daggetts, brother. Not on this mission. You know it takes years to cultivate a geo-political relationship such as the one we shared with him."

"Then why the hell did you kill him?" Barsad exclaimed, frustrated.

"Because it was time, brother. The man was out of control. Intoxicated by power."

They entered the main doors of the Montana, a fashionable co-op apartment building in the upper west side of the city. Bane was pleased to see that the lobby had been completely ransacked.

Ignoring the self-appointed elevator operator, he and Barsad ascended the winding staircase to the seventh floor. They then waded through the damage in the halls, and found their way to apartment number 720.

"Open up, lady!" Barsad called as he rattled the door handle. "Otherwise I'm gonna blow the lock on this door."

Inside, a terrified Parker looked through the peephole and couldn't believe her eyes. The very man she regretted seeking out and his armed lackey were demanding entry into her home.

Reluctantly she responded to Barsad's threat, fearful of the power of his assault rifle.

"Now there's a sight you don't often see in places like this," Barsad observed as he and Bane entered her suite. "The lady of the house sweeping up. I guess the cleaning woman never showed?"

Parker put down the broom and dustpan she'd been using and stared helplessly at the two men. So much had happened in the last few days. The occupation, Christopher's death, Barsad's improper advances, the failed meeting with Bane, her night under a doctor's care and finally, the vandalizing of her home. It was almost impossible for Parker to fathom the reality of the mercenaries' presence on her doorstep.

"What…what more do you want? Haven't you done enough already? I came home to find a pack of teenagers looting this place, and it's taken me three days to make it safe to walk around in."

"Sit!" Bane ordered, his massive forefinger gesturing to the sitting room beyond the wide hall.

Parker obeyed his instructions and moved stiffly to the end of the sofa. She feared the mercenary in the same way that she had learned to fear Christopher, sensing that he could turn violent at a moment's notice.

Bane's bones cracked as he lowered himself into the seat next to her and examined her curiously.

She kept her eyes averted and slid her hands between her thighs to stop them from trembling, cursing herself for ever having sought an audience with him. Her actions had apparently aroused his interest in her, when all she craved was anonymity.

A long, uncomfortable silence followed as her senses absorbed the unsteady respiration of his mask and the scent of his sheepskin coat. Bane lifted her chin upwards with the tip of his warm finger, and gently turned her face to his.

"The doctor has done an excellent job of repairing your nose," he rumbled thoughtfully as his finger travelled down her neck. "In fact, all of your physical wounds are healing nicely."

A strange sensation washed over her when she made eye contact with him, almost as though she were being hypnotized. Bane's probing eyes were dark chocolate in colour and gleaming with purpose. Parker couldn't look away.

"However, it is the invisible wounds which are most difficult to heal. Is that not so, Mrs. Ainsley-Wood?"

Stunned by his insight, Parker's swollen lower lip quivered. "What would you know about that?"

"We must have that conversation another time," Bane replied, as he rose from his seat, hovering above her menacingly. "To business."

"What… business?"

"One of our investors is no longer in a position to finance us whilst we remain in Gotham. Unfortunately, he met with a fatal accident and his accounts are no longer accessible to us. Your arrival at City Hall a few days ago presented us with a quick, alternative solution."

"I don't quite understand, except for the part about you needing money, Mr. Bane. What has this to do with me?"

"Recall what transpired between us at City Hall."

"I … I was injured, and disoriented, and the doctor gave me a sedative. I can barely remember the day."

"You said, I owe you my life. I owe you everything. Whoever you are, no matter what you've done, I want you to know that."

He strung the words out dramatically in the same way he had delivered his speech at Blackgate, as the colour drained from Parker's damaged complexion.

"But... but I wasn't in my right state of mind. I was delirious. My husband almost killed me that day. Surely you can't mean I'm in debt to you because of what I said?" Parker protested.

"That is exactly what I mean, Mrs. Ainsley-Wood. I killed your abusive husband, and you responded by declaring that you owe me everything."

"But I…I never asked you to kill him."

"We both know you are better off without him. I am calling in the marker, Mrs. Ainsley-Wood, and I have come to empty your husband's safe. Take comfort in the fact that instead of demanding your money, I have chosen to take it from a man who no longer needs his."

"What do you need the money for? More explosions? More death?"

He moved behind the sofa and placed an intimidating hand on her shoulder. The mask hissed above her.

"For the care and feeding of my men."

"But, how do you know there's money in the safe?"

"It's quite simple, Madam. I merely researched your dear-departed husband's reputation. His safe is the subject of legend among his various business associates, and I soon determined that he was the kind of man who kept large amounts of cash on hand for payoffs, bribery and dirty deals.

Parker looked downwards, humiliated that Bane could so accurately read her husband without ever having met him.

"Up!" His twitching forefinger beckoned her as he returned to face her. "Open the safe."

Parker rose from her seat and crossed the room to her husband's study, where the safe was hidden behind a large painting.

She lifted her shaking hand to the keypad, looking at Bane with alarmed hazel eyes.

"Give me a moment," she whispered as she closed her eyes and struggled to recall the combination. "My mind's gone blank."

The men watched patiently as her elegant fingers hovered over the keypad until she eventually remembered the combination. The safe door popped open and she moved aside.

Bane nodded at Barsad, prompting his second-in-command to inspect the contents.

"Looks like your gamble paid off, Bane." Barsad reached for the thick stacks of bills inside and made a rough count. "There's gotta be 15 million dollars here," he said as he began stuffing the money into a canvas bag.

"That will do," Bane nodded approvingly.

"Not only was your husband a jerk," Barsad said, addressing Parker. "He was a dope too. Look at all the interest he squandered by keeping this amount of money at home. He was supposed to be some kinda hedge fund genius, and he did this?"

With the money now safely stuffed into his bag, Barsad reached for a large black velvet box, the only other item in the safe.

"My Harry Winston diamond necklace." Parker offered helpfully. "There are earrings too. It was my wedding jewelry."

"Take it as well," Bane ordered as he turned to Parker.

"Since you were so good as to thank me for killing your husband, I will return the kindness and thank you for the contents of your husband's safe."

Parker acknowledged Bane's thanks with a single nod.

"What, no crying or begging," Barsad heckled. "No throwing yourself at Bane's feet like you did the other day?"

"Mr. Bane, Mr. Barsad, I doubt very much you need a figure as large as 15 million dollars to feed your men, nor do you need my diamonds. The truth is, I don't care. As you might have guessed, I'm not feeling very charitable toward my late husband today. And given the recent state of my marriage, I've ceased to have any sentimental attachment to the diamonds. So please, I want you to have it. Take it all with my blessing."

Bane swaggered toward her as his brow furrowed in anger. Barsad was right. She should have shown some emotion, at the very least because the money was to be used to fund the enemies of city.

His fingers twitched and he instinctively found the warm pulse at the base of her swan-like neck. He could have crushed her right then and there, but he chose not to. He told himself that it was not the right time.

"I was wondering when you would reveal your true self," he intoned judgmentally. "You do not disappoint me. You cold-heartedly dismiss the loss of over 15 million dollars, when an ordinary man could labour for a thousand years and never earn anywhere close to that figure. You are rich, corrupt, and despicable."

Bane growled as he gripped her upper arm and flung her into a nearby chair.

A terrified Parker shielded herself from anticipated blows. "No," she sobbed. "No more hitting, Christopher! I can't bear it anymore!"

"Ah, she's falling apart again, Bane," Barsad sneered. "Why don't you just finish her off? You don't need her anymore."

Parker was now trapped in the chair, because Bane had towered over her and gripped the armrests to block her escape.

Except for the disturbingly uneven sounds of the mercenary's mask, the room fell silent. Bane stared down at his trembling, gasping captive with contempt.

"He broke you," he mused lowly. "You have your own money. You could have left him and gone anywhere. Why did you stay with him?"

Even if she had been able to formulate an answer to Bane's question, she was convinced that she was experiencing the last moments of her life and her mind was focused on calm acceptance.

"Come brother," Bane said as he eventually released her. "We are finished here."

#####

In the days following Bane and Barsad's visit, Parker had mentally processed the incident as a minor one. After all, Bane had not hurt or killed her as she had feared. He had only taken money that didn't belong to her. And he had shown a less monstrous side of himself by asking an insightful question on the subject of her marriage to Christopher. In hindsight, it wasn't an incident to lose sleep over, compared to life with her husband.

The teenaged thieves had emptied her refrigerator, and she had been living on a diet of peanut butter and stale crackers ever since. There was news that some stores were handing out food, so Parker ventured outside and joined a long line of people outside a local market. The wait was interminable, and no one was allowed inside due to looting concerns. In the end she only came away with a box of cereal and a small container of milk to stave off her hunger.

Her bounty was soon short-lived. Just when she thought the tumultuous fallout following Bane's occupation had begun to ease, Parker's troubles continued.

On her way home she forged through the fresh snow in inadequate stiletto boots, unaware that she was being followed until she was shoved face down into a snowbank by unknown assailants.

"Oh, my God…" she gasped as she struggled to raise herself. "When will it end?"

"Get up," a female voice ordered. "Never show them defeat."

Parker stumbled to her feet, brushing the snow from her face and hair as she caught sight of an auburn-haired young woman dressed in a navy-blue coat.

"My cereal! They took my cereal!"

"They're long gone, now," the other woman replied. "They escaped through the underpass."

"Oh, God," Parker fretted. "This is the first day I've ever really been hungry in well over a year, and now I have no food!"

Her coat fell open, and the auburn-haired woman summed up Parker's clothing disdainfully, even though she had taste for high fashion herself.

"They're hunting down people like you, honey, so let me give you a little piece of advice. If you must go outside, don't wear a two thousand-dollar coat and a Chanel pantsuit. You may as well have a big red target on your back."

"Oh…oh, of course," Parker replied, humiliation staining her cheeks. "I…I should have known better."

"I don't suppose you have a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt hidden away in your cavernous walk-in closet? Or a pair of sensible boots and a less expensive coat?"

"My closets have been ransacked, but I'm sure I can find something," Parker replied, stung by the woman's patronizing attitude.

"If you're hungry, they're feeding people two blocks from here at St. Mark's."

Parker clutched the collar of her coat as an expression of horror crossed her face. "You don't mean…a soup kitchen?"

"It's called community outreach, honey."

"But…but I'm not like those people!" Parker claimed without a trace of shame.

"Oh, don't worry," the woman responded sarcastically. "After two weeks of this, you will be. It may not be the five-star dining you're used to but it's fuel, and you'll probably meet some of your neighbours there. If they can stand the shame, so can you!"

"Oh...well, thank you for letting me know. I am hungry."

Parker's black eye and swollen lip had not gone unnoticed by the auburn-haired woman.

"Take my advice. Dress appropriately. You don't want any more thugs doing a number on your face."

Parker buttoned her coat and shoved her hands into her pockets.

"I'm Parker," she said, introducing herself. "And you are?"

The woman frowned, initially unsure of revealing her own name. But something told her that the wealthy but naive young woman was no threat to her.

"Selina."

"Well, Selina, the thug who did this to my face was my husband."

Selina wasn't the kind of woman given to overt gestures, but she couldn't help but frown.

"Just go get yourself something to eat, okay?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Barsad just informed me that you and he robbed Parker Ainsley-Wood. You can't be serious, Bane!"

Talia and Bane had just convened in their usual meeting place — the old freight elevator in the back of City Hall. The sun had yet to rise, and once again Talia was upset with Bane.

He had already anticipated that she would condemn his actions as common theft, and he was ready for her.

"Correction, my dear Talia. I merely seized the contents of her late husband's safe, with her full cooperation. That is not the same as robbery."

"Bane…although I'm pleased with the swift turnaround and the money you secured, I'm disappointed by your methods. Our actions must be sophisticated, as was our kidnapping of Dr. Pavel, our stock exchange heist and our stadium takedown. I highly doubt this will go down well with our brothers back home."

Bane's expression was unreadable, but inside he was plagued by a familiar resentment. Those operations had been planned by him, specifically designed around his role as the principle antagonist in each of them. Their success was largely due to his own menace and cunning. That should have been enough for her to respect his choices.

Instead, she frowned on him for emptying a safe. And as she had suggested, the old guard back at base wouldn't approve either.

Of course, they wouldn't. After all, he was the Demon Head's loyal but lowborn brute. A bastard of unknown parentage, raised in a foul pit prison. Unworthy of the League of Shadows, but for the fact that he had saved the life of the daughter of Ra's al Ghul.

There was nothing elegant about Bane, which rankled them. His methods were blunt, and he needed the mask to function at peak. They thought they were finally rid of him when Talia's father kicked him out, but then the Batman did Bane a favour when he chose not to save the life of Ra's al Ghul.

Talia ascended to the throne, with the masked man by her side.

As Demon Head, Talia became as cold and intolerant as her father. She often blamed her hardness on his death, but it was a lie. Although it was true that she was driven by revenge against Bruce Wayne, leadership had changed her. As a young girl she had challenged her father on the tenets and principles of the League of Shadows, and with good reason. Now that she was all-powerful, she clung to them as rigidly as the League's aging backbenchers.

Bane eventually lost all hope of Talia ever bringing a breath of fresh air into the staid old institution, and he began to be concerned about his own accomplishments and legacy.

The long-planned destruction of Gotham was the perfect opportunity for him to begin asserting himself as more than Talia's enforcer. He wanted more than mere infamy. And he was determined to achieve that goal.

"The very idea of Barsad stuffing bricks of cash into a duffle bag is egregious," Talia scolded. "We are the League of Shadows, not the Clown. We must be more enlightened. It troubles me brother, that almost every time we meet I have to censure your behaviour."

"You are far too conscious of how I am perceived by our brothers," Bane replied, a smirk forming beneath the mask. "The Ainsley-Woods represent everything we despise about Gotham. It is entirely appropriate that I cleared out the husband's safe."

"I am well aware of them, brother. We ran in the same social circles. I've always considered Parker somewhat of a Stepford wife, because there's something not quite right about her. She's always had a peculiar habit of backing out of charity events or parties at the last moment, and then disappearing for weeks. There are persistent whispers that her husband was cruel to her."

"Indeed, he was." Bane confirmed. "She came to me at City Hall, injured. He beat her savagely on the day he attended the mayor's box at the stadium, and she wished to offer her thanks for my having killed him. She said that I had saved her life, and that she owed me everything. When we emptied her husband's safe she offered no resistance, even though she was aware that the money was to be used to fund our mercenaries. It is a fact that she encouraged us to take it. She is as corrupt as any of them."

Talia broke into low, sensuous laughter at his response. It was the kind of laughter that made Bane uneasy in her presence and concerned for her stability. Lately he had a difficult time recognizing the child he had always loved.

"She thanked you for killing him? How perverse! It is true what they say. The rich are different," she chuckled. "Alright, Bane. You win this time. I'll tell our brothers that she offered us the money. You patched up your Daggett blunder by crude means, and now I want no more surprises from you. Is that clear?"

The daughter of Ra's al Ghul pressed an ancient green button and the elevator door slid open.

Bane followed her out the door to where Barsad was waiting.

"Talia my dear, when we are truly done with Gotham, our brothers will finally acknowledge me as more than just a brutal thug."

"Of course they will," she insisted, instinctively knowing that Bane's warning was also meant for her. "They are such old fools, aren't they?"

Selina called it.

Three weeks into Bane's occupation of Gotham, Parker had come a long way from her initial humiliating visit to St. Mark's Church for food.

On the first day she had huddled anonymously in a quiet corner of the church's gymnasium, mortified to be seen accepting charity, forcing down bland vegetable soup and processed cheese on white bread.

On subsequent visits she had taken Selina's advice and dressed appropriately. She found some of Christopher's plaid hunting shirts, a pair of track pants, flat boots and a plain coat to keep her warm and anonymous. Most of her designer clothing had been stolen It didn't matter. It was dangerous to dress well in Bane's Gotham.

She had tried to remain as invisible as possible during her visits to St. Mark's, avoiding eye contact and never speaking to anyone, but eventually the walls began to crumble.

She was lonely, and hadn't been able to find any of her friends. Soon enough she let her guard down and began to talk to people with whom she wouldn't normally fraternize. She made the acquaintance of Rev. Bill Coe and his wife, Rev. Margaret Woudstra, who happily assured her that if she wanted spiritual guidance it was available. If all she wanted was food or companionship, she would get that too with no questions asked.

Parker eventually forced herself to volunteer for cooking and serving shifts. After all, before Bane's occupation she'd been involved in a handful of charities at a superficial level. Now she was on the front lines, getting her hands dirty. She reasoned that it was the right thing to do, even though she didn't feel particularly connected to the people she served. Besides, it helped to pass the long hours of the winter days, keeping her mind off the conflicting rumours she'd heard about Bane's bomb.

Nuclear experts had warned that because the bomb was separated from its core, it would detonate in a matter of months. But some chose to believe that Bane's speech at the stadium was hogwash, that the bomb would never go off, and that neither he nor any citizen possessed the power to trigger it.

What did Bane really want, and how long would he keep the city under his thumb? That was the question on everyone's mind.

Parker encountered Selina a number of times as she passed through Old Town on her daily walks, and had shared the story of her marriage to the cheating, abusive Christopher.

Selina gave almost nothing in return. She had alluded in passing to having been in juvenile detention and that she had a lengthy criminal record, but most of the time she was guarded and unwilling to enter into anything more than superficial conversation peppered with droll advice.

Parker found it hard to believe that such a lovely young woman was a repeat offender. However, it was clear to her that Selina acted as some sort of guardian in the neighbourhood. She was very athletic, and Parker looked on enviously as Selina dispatched thieves and looters with a series of well-timed roundhouse kicks. While her words suggested she didn't care, her actions indicated otherwise.

Selina warned Parker never to approach the court house, where daily sentencing hearings for the rich and powerful were taking place. She knew that the wealthy heiress wouldn't like what she saw, and that she might be at risk of being taken.

On this particular day, the sun shone and the air was crisp. Parker could heard the roar of the crowd as she rounded the corner to the grand hall of justice. A police van parked out front had obviously been confiscated by Bane's men, who opened the back doors and began pushing a crowd of prisoners up the stairs.

Among them were two of Parker's best friends, both wearing terrified expressions. Caprice Townsend and Lily Rothstein clung to one another as they were herded into the judgement phase to Judge Crane.

A shocked Parker pushed through the crowd up the stairs and into the cavernous court room, shrugging off anyone who tried to stop her from reaching the bench where Judge Crane presided.

"Caprice! Lily!" Parker shouted as she rushed to the bench. "Stop it! Stop this now!" She shouted at Judge Crane.

Before she could reach Crane she was seized by the heavily armed Barsad.

The noise and frenetic atmosphere had emboldened her, and she held nothing back.

"You let go of me!" She demanded, recognizing the man who had groped her at City Hall. "Don't ever touch me again, you filthy animal!"

"Take it easy, Mrs. Eynsford-Hill. It's crazy enough in here without you contributing to it," Barsad replied calmly.

With a firm grip on her arm, he dragged her to the east side of the court house, where Bane watched the proceedings.

"It's Ainsley-Wood, little man," Parker struggled against Barsad as he shoved her before Bane.

"Look who I found trying to interrupt the proceedings at the bench. None other than our generous benefactor."

The muscular mercenary was propped lazily against the east wall, toying with a long orange cord that was partially stuffed into the pocket of his fleece coat.

"Good morning, Mrs. Ainsley-Wood." Bane greeted Parker without looking up from his task. "I recognized your lovely, lovely voice from afar."

"Mr. Bane, my good friends Caprice and Lily are about to be sentenced. They're going to die, aren't they? How could you do this to two young women with the whole of their lives ahead of them?"

"Allow me to explain, my dear," Bane replied as he pulled another length of cord from his pocket.

"Caprice Townsend is the statuesque former model, unhappily married to a partner in the firm that built the Wayne Tower. She has recently learned that she is carrying another man's child. Lily Rothstein, as you well know, is the queen of your social circle. She is the grand-daughter of the founder of Gotham National Bank, whose much older husband ignores her many affairs."

"My God!" Parker exclaimed. "Is that what this occupation is all about? Sticking your nose into the illicit sex lives of the citizens of Gotham? What's next on the agenda? Driving the money-changers from the temple?"

"It is already done," Bane replied, his low voice lifted by the unusual lilt of his speech pattern.

"Mr. Bane, please. I'm begging you! Spare these two women. I know them well and they're guilty of nothing more than choosing the wrong husbands!"

"Like yourself, Mrs. Ainsley-Wood," he observed, remaining fully engaged by the cord he was knotting. "You too chose the wrong husband."

A long moment passed before Parker answered.

"I chose to please others, instead of myself."

"And yet unlike your adulterous friends, you never took refuge in the arms of another man."

Parker was far too distracted by the impending fate of her friends to be alarmed by Bane's intimate knowledge of her marriage.

"Mr. Bane, time is running out. Will you please allow Caprice and Lily to go free? Caprice is pregnant, for God's sake!"

"Then perhaps you would like to take the place of Caprice," he rumbled. "It would certainly be a noble gesture on your part given the fact that she is with child."

"Well," Parker blinked, perplexed that he had thus far refused to make eye contact with her. "That's…that's not exactly what I had in mind. I would prefer to save lives than exchange prisoners."

"You only wish to save the lives of your own kind. You care nothing about the suffering of the people."

"And you do? Since when do you care about the people? You're a despot who enjoys watching people suffer no matter what their social standing!"

"I have no authority here, Mrs. Ainsley-Wood. Judge Crane is charge of the proceedings. I am merely a spectator."

"You can stop it! You're in charge of the city! The Scarecrow is just another one of your 'yes' men."

It was then that Bane finally turned away from his project to gaze directly into her eyes.

He had fully expected to see the same woman whose safe he had emptied nearly three weeks ago – a woman who sported a black eye, a split lip, and a broken nose that had been set by Dr. Velez.

He was unprepared for the beguiling sight of green-gold eyes, full lips and caramel-coloured hair tumbling to her shoulders.

He knew she was attractive, but he never anticipated that her photographs might not do her justice. He had barely given her a second thought after robbing her safe, until he heard her voice moments ago.

Her striking natural beauty had taken him by surprise, and Bane detested surprises. His sleeping manhood surged to life within the confines of his cargo pants.

"Mr. Bane, please release them," Parker pleaded.

Bane fixed an angry gaze on her, infuriated by his physical response. His mind raced.

He was in Gotham to finish the job that Ra's al Ghul had begun, to burn Gotham to the ground along with all its moral rot. Parker represented that rot. Her family had profited from the oppression of the people for decades. He was a celibate man. He couldn't possibly be tempted by her.

Like Talia, she was fully aware of her beauty and used it as a weapon. She needed only to bat her eyelashes and part her lips in order to hold a man in the palm of her hands. She was flirtatious. Her husband knew it only too well, that was why he beat her. Parker Ainsley-Wood was a corrupt Jezebel and a faithless wife. He wanted to crush her windpipe.

"Mr. Bane, won't you please find it in your heart to pardon these women?"

Reality prevailed as Bane harnessed his busy mind.

"I have no heart, Madam," he rumbled.

He waved Barsad forward. "Escort Mrs. Ainsley-Wood out of the court house, brother. See that she is not granted admission again."

Barsad grabbed Parker's arm for the second time that day and hustled her away from Bane.

"That's twice you've been banned from a public place on my watch," he hissed in her ear. "You're gonna get a reputation for being a real pain in the ass."

"Let me go!" Parker struggled, trying to catch one last glimpse of her friends.

Outside the court house Barsad released her.

"You should have come to me first, Parker. We could have cut a deal." He stared her up and down, squinting, as Parker's stomach rolled.

"I could have released your friends, in return for a little tender loving care from yourself. I can't do anything to stop the judgments now, but remember me next time you want something real bad."

Parker couldn't justify violence of any kind given her history as a battered wife, but Barsad's offer was so repellant that she instinctively slapped him hard across the face.

"Don't you dare you speak to me like that! How low can your small-man's syndrome get?"

The loud, boisterous voice that sounded behind them belonged to Dr. Eric Velez.

"Ah, nice comeback, Parker!"

"Well if it isn't Parker's knight in shining armour," Barsad sneered. "The disgraced doctor who thinks he's better than me!"

"I am better than you, and I'll prove it when I bust your skinny ass. You and me, alone in the ring."

"Sorry, pal," Barsad grinned coldly. "It's not worth my time to beat you up. I have better things to do. I'd kill you right now if Bane didn't need you." He turned abruptly and vaulted up the court house stairs to where Bane waited.

"Dr. Velez," Parker begged. "My friends Caprice and Lily have been sent for judgment. Will you help me convince the judge to release them? Bane refused me."

"Parker, no." Dr. Velez cautioned, taking her roughly by the wrist. "I don't want you going inside that court house again. Bane is killing your kind in there. You're lucky you got out of there alive!"

"I don't care what you want," Parker bristled as she broke away from him. "And I'm sick of men shoving me around, do you hear? My friends are going to die!"

"Whoa!" The doctor backed away from her, immediately understanding her reaction given her history. "I'm so sorry, Parker. It was wrong of me to be rough with you. It's just that no one can save your friends now. You have to let this go, or else join them!"

Parker burst into tears as bystanders watched.

"It's okay," the burly young doctor consoled her. "Permission to give you a hug?"

At the top of the stairs, Bane and Barsad watched the scene for some time.

"This is bullshit," Barsad observed. "She's a wreck. You don't need her anymore. I say it's time to put her down."

"No, brother. She represents the defeated souls of this city. Her suffering pleases me."

Bane tried to convince himself that Parker's suffering was the only reason for his bullying erection, but he feared he was fighting a losing battle.

Harbouring lust for the enemy was highly frowned upon in the League. It was considered a grave weakness by the old guard, although Talia stopped short of condemning it due to her own role as a seducing socialite.

Given his ambitions to be recognized in a far greater capacity for his work in Gotham, Bane couldn't afford to be exposed for craving the enemy.

Perhaps Barsad was right. He should simply kill her...


	4. Chapter 4

Deep inside the the sewer tunnels of Gotham City, Bane lay on his cot, staring at the harsh, industrial lighting and the air ducts above. He treasured the hours alone, when he could gather his thoughts and enjoy the silence. All the work was done now, save for the ongoing routine administration of his power, and the detonation of the bomb. After long months of planning and execution in the sewers, Bane was thoroughly enjoying his free time.

It was during his long spell in the sewers that his issues with Talia and the League had first festered, and he began to ponder the possibility of seizing power from the daughter of Ra's al Ghul.

He meant no real malice against her. Bane loved Talia, but he wasn't above competing with her for his rightful place at the table.

She had cultivated her glamorous alter ego for years, and thus Miranda Tate was a widely admired Gotham City CEO and socialite. There was no doubt that Talia had dedicated years of preparation and study into becoming Miranda, but surely that experience had been a walk in the park in contrast to all the years Bane had done thankless and dirty work as the field commander of Gotham's destruction.

Bane had planned, and led all of their missions leading up to the occupation, and had spent months hacking into City Hall and Wayne Enterprises. In the past he had proven his leadership countless times with flawlessly executed military coups. He had used bribery, blackmail and intimidation to great success. He had endured long nights of surveillance and sleeping outdoors, with nothing to eat but freeze dried food from meal packets. There was no such luxury as tea leaves out in the field. Only the mediocre invention of the tea bag.

He had never enjoyed the benefits of a roaring fire, red wine and rich food that Talia had in Miranda's elegant townhouse, and he endured all the hardship with little appreciation from either Talia or the League.

Eventually Talia and the old guard at the League of Shadows would bow to him. In order for that to happen, Bane needed to have a plan firmly in place before Gotham was destroyed.

Suddenly his groin twitched, and he broke concentration.

It had been several days since he had been struck by the unvarnished beauty of Parker Ainsley-Wood at the court house. The facial injuries inflicted by her husband had faded away, and even without the cosmetic artifice that Talia so naturally assumed in her role as Miranda, Parker's natural beauty was staggering. He had immediately experienced a healthy erection, which angered him.

However, his anger soon gave way to intrigue. The incident was enough for him to order a security detail to the high-end apartment building where she dwelled, for reasons he couldn't explain to either his men or himself. After all, she was the enemy. She represented everything that was corrupt in Gotham, and yet he experienced no hatred for her — only the purest form of lust.

Since then, his erection had returned several times, particularly when he was trying to plot his much desired power coup. He tried meditation and yoga. He even tried praying to a God he didn't believe in. And yet every night his stiff member persisted in hounding him.

After nearly a week of repeated assaults on his body, Bane strongly considered giving in to the inevitable.

Surrendering would be a big step, because he had been celibate for years, thanks to a long ago promise to Talia's father. As a younger man, Bane had sowed his wild oats with countless young women from the village below the monastery. When an angry Ra's al Ghul learned of his activities, he enforced celibacy upon him.

Because Bane felt indebted to Ra's for rescuing him, and because he served as Talia's protector, he reluctantly agreed. It was extremely difficult at first, but as the years passed Bane accomplished such a string of League successes that he came to believe that celibacy had made him a more effective military commander. Even after Ra's al Ghul's death, he remained impervious to temptation.

He had given all of Gotham permission to take spoils, so why shouldn't he partake as well? And why shouldn't his spoil be the very woman who was the cause of his sexual distress? It would certainly make for a good fireside tale if he were able to boast that he had seduced one of Gotham's wealthiest and most beautiful socialites during his siege of the city.

*****

St. Mark's church was at its busiest in the late afternoon, when scores of people rendered homeless by Bane gathered for what was perhaps their only meal of the day. Tonight the locals feasted on a dinner of greasy chicken thighs, boxed potatoes and frozen peas.

As Selina Kyle had predicted, Parker recognized some of Gotham's wealthiest citizens reduced to accepting charity. Some appeared humiliated by their fallen fortunes. Others were seething with anger and the desire for revenge against the masked man.

Parker hoped her volunteer work at the church would distract her from harsh reality, but all week long she had been haunted by the memory of Lily and Caprice, clutching on to one another for dear life as they approached Judge Crane's bench. Parker had tried to plead for the women's lives, but Bane refused her, and had Barsad hustle her out of the court room. She was horrified to learn that the two women were likely drowned at the waterfront, the knowledge of which kept her awake at night.

She had just finished her serving shift, and was headed home when she was approached by an exotic young woman with skin the colour of espresso and a riot of bleached blonde curls.

"Well, if it isn't Parker Ainsely-Wood! What a coincidence finding you here. I have some things that belonged to your husband," she said as she rummaged through her bag. Her generous breasts were perfectly displayed in a teal blue blouse.

"What things?" Parker frowned. "And why do you have them?"

"I thought about keeping them as a remembrance," the young woman said boldly. "Turns out they only remind me of what was not to be," she sighed as she handed over Christopher's wallet and cell phone.

"My name's Cassandra, by the way, and I'm afraid there's no other way to say this, Parker. Your husband and I were together on the day he was killed. He'd been invited to the mayor's box, he was in a rush and he left them behind in the hotel suite… along with me."

Parker frown deepened. She found it difficult to comprehend the words at first, until her naiveté abandoned her. Her stomach dropped as the gravity of the girl's confession dawned on her.

"You're…you're telling me that you two were… having an…affair?"

"In my defence," Cassandra protested flippantly. "I wouldn't call it an affair seeing as we only slept together once, but it was going to be an affair."

The tightness in Parker's chest was so intense that she saw stars. She'd always suspected Christopher had other women, but she never dared to confront him for fear of being hit.

"The sex was ordinary, but I figured that was your fault. I could have fixed it," Cassandra grinned. "Chris held on to a lot of anger too, but again, that was your fault. I could have fixed that too."

Parker's urge to bolt was overwhelming, and she frantically eyed the exit. Anywhere was preferable to listening to the claims of a self-assured, sexy young spitfire who brazenly admitted to sleeping with her late husband. "Excuse me," she murmured as she tried to brush past Cassandra, but the younger woman blocked her way.

"Want to know why I'm telling you this? It's because I'm angry." Casandra tightened her grip on Parker's arm. "Maybe I was never going to be his wife, but I was perfectly willing to be his mistress. I was going to do anything and everything to hold on to him. That was the plan, until that masked monster ruined everything," she hissed.

Shell-shocked, and unable to come up with a stinging rebuttal, Parker managed to push past the girl.

"It was nice meeting you, Parker," Cassandra called. "We'll probably cross paths again. My parents are the ministers here."

Parker fled the church and ran all the way home, slamming the door and jamming a chair under the handle.

As she tore off her coat, she caught her reflection in the mirror and watched her stoic, chalk-white expression crumple. Paralyzed by a silent scream, she lowered herself to the sofa.

An endless series of deep, guttural sobs followed. Tears flowed, swelling her eyes and staining her complexion. Her breath caught in the tightness of her chest and she hiccoughed repeatedly.

Eventually, the tsunami of tears passed, and Parker wiped her soaked face with both sleeves. Just when she thought all was calm, she caught sight of a musclebound figure standing at the far end of the plush sofa, and she screamed.

"Calm yourself, Parker," Bane frowned as he approached her. "There is nothing to fear."

Parker wiped her eyes hastily, self-conscious about her tear-stained, swollen face. "Just…how long have you been standing there?" she gasped, horrified at the prospect that he'd witnessed her breakdown.

"I arrived before you, and made myself comfortable in your kitchen."

"How wonderful! I can't even have a good cry without you people watching me."

Bane ignored her sarcasm, and moved even closer with methodical steps.

"Let me assure you, my dear Parker, that no man is worth the amount of tears you shed today. Not even me."

"What makes you think I'm crying over a man?" Parker demanded. "If you really must know, a woman upset me!"

"Indeed? A woman?" Bane's brow rose curiously as his dark chocolate orbs swept her slender frame.

"Yes," Parker nodded. "A very earthy, full breasted, wild young thing, who confronted me at St. Mark's church today and informed me that she had slept with my husband."

"Shocking," Bane observed cooly. "Do you believe her?"

"Oh absolutely I do!" Parker assured him, voice quivering as she paced the room. "Christopher told me he had an early meeting with a client at Hotel Waverley, and from there he was meeting the Mayor at Rogues Stadium. This woman returned his cell phone and wallet to me, which he left at the hotel. Cassandra — that's her name — said that Christopher was angry all the time and bad in bed because of me. That's not true! Christopher was bad in bed, period. It was always take, take, take with him. He never cared what I needed. I had nothing to do with his bedroom failures," she declared through grit teeth. "How dare she say that to me? Why didn't I think to tell her that he beat me? I could have shown her selfies of my injuries. I could have told her that she dodged a bullet, but I just stood there staring at her. My mind went completely blank."

"Do not preoccupy yourself with your husband's would-be mistress," Bane advised, revelling in the salacious details she had shared. "Her gravy train ended before it could begin, and now her only recourse is to lash out at you."

Parker nodded in agreement as her eyes drifted to his muscular chest. "I'm disappointed in myself. I'm very well educated, Mr. Bane. I'm a graduate of Miss Porter's School and Bryn Mawr. I'm Vice Chair of the Gotham City Ballet, so I know how to talk to people. I know how to have presence of mind. But I was so shocked by her admission and her attitude…"

Bane's fingers twitched at his sides. The beautiful woman had confided in him, and his chest heaved in anticipation of an imminent conquest.

"I suppose I should explain that I married Christopher because we grew up together and our wealthy parents thought we would make a good merger. I was an only child and expected to please Mother and Father."

"Mergers like yours are common practice in Gotham," Bane observed cynically. "They ensure that power remains in the hands of the very few."

Parker nodded in agreement. "I apologize for babbling, Mr. Bane. Now, would you like to explain why you were... hiding in my kitchen," she asked, returning to a more formal tone.

"I merely came to inform you that your socialite friends are alive and well," Bane croaked. He inched closer to savour her clean scent.

"They're not dead? Oh, thank you, Mr. Bane!" She clasped her hands in a prayerful expression, her cultured tones brimmed with emotion, and her face radiated joy. "Thank you for listening to me!"

"I had nothing to do with their release," Bane replied ominously. "Judge Crane decided to establish what he calls a "free pass program". Mrs. Rothstein and Mrs. Townshend were the first recipients. From now on the judge will extend a free pass to a random guilty party. This will result in increased chaos and stampeding in the court room as those awaiting sentencing attempt to earn his favour. It is an excellent idea, is it not, Parker? I would have preferred the women go to their deaths. Instead, I chose to honour Crane's creativity and did not intervene."

"I see. Well, thank you anyway." Parker lowered her eyes. Bane had drawn very close to her, and the uneven projection of his respiration unnerved her. She couldn't shake the notion that he had come for something other than to relay information. She regretted having opened up to him about Cassandra, and her marriage. The last thing she wanted was for Bane to assume that he had her confidence.

The room went quiet, and Parker bore the weight of Bane's intense gaze until she could no longer tolerate his hungry scrutiny.

"Please. What do you really want?" She cried desperately. She hadn't failed to notice the eager twitching of his fingers as their conversation had unfolded.

In answer to her question, Bane's forefinger reached for a lock of her caramel-coloured hair.

"You are exquisite," he rasped as his finger continued along the length of her neck and slid the fabric of her flannel shirt from her soft, milky white shoulder. In doing so, he caught a glimpse of the swell of her breast. His groin throbbed and the mask rattled with his every laboured breath.

"I think I understand now," Parker blanched as she stepped away from him. "You want payment on demand for the release of Lily and Caprice. The kind of payment a man can't get from a locked safe."

The mercenary's brow furrowed and his heart-stopping stare held hers for what seemed like an eternity.

"I never engage in such transactions," he frowned. He recognized immediately that the evening as he had planned it was lost. When he took her body, he wanted her complete cooperation, and she wasn't going to be cooperative tonight.

"I don't believe you!" Parker gasped as she rushed to the hall door, unblocking and throwing the door open. "Will you please leave."

It was a ridiculous demand given that Bane could have easily overpowered her and taken what he wanted, but Parker had only polite words to protect herself.

"Very well, my dear," Bane conceded as he sauntered towards her.

It was only then that Parker noticed his casual dress, She wasn't used to seeing him without his fleece coat and heavy vest, and her fascinated eyes wandered along the broad expanse of his thick neck. From there they examined the muscles rippling beneath his tight black shirt. To her great shame Parker's eyes lingered longest on his crotch after dropping her gaze to his sturdy cargo pants.

Her attention did not go unnoticed by him.

"I can give you what he never could," Bane whispered as he pressed his mask to her ear. "He broke you, Parker. Allow me to put you back together again, and make the pain go away."

"Goodbye," she squeaked. A hot blush washed over her as she refused to look at him.

"Goodnight, Parker," Bane replied as he slipped out the door. "We will meet again."

When he was gone Parker slammed the suite door and returned to the mirror, examining the reflection of a woman she wasn't sure she recognized anymore. Christopher's flannel shirt lay off her shoulder where Bane had left it. As his parting words replayed over and over in her mind, her forefinger gingerly retraced Bane's trail along her shoulder, and she shivered as something long dead inside her bloomed with delicious sensations.

*****

Once Bane had returned to his cot in the sewers, he began to analyze his failure.

Years of celibacy had obviously rusted his seduction skills. He was wrong in bringing up the subject of Lily and Caprice, and he had made his move on Parker at the wrong time, allowing her to assume that he wanted sex as payment for her friends' release. He should have made his move earlier, and consoled her during her emotional breakdown until she had fallen into his arms.

He had blundered, and instead of introducing himself to the pleasures of Parker's body, he was, as usual, spending the night in the sewers.

However, the evening hadn't been a total loss. In fact, he felt strangely elated. He wasn't at all concerned about his missteps, because he had culled valuable information that would make his job so much easier next time...

*****


	5. Chapter 5

It was well after midnight when Dr. Eric Velez finished seeing to the welfare of a patient he could not fix.

Mercenary Kenji Adachi needed an appendectomy, but the disgraced Dr. Velez was a gynaecologist, not a surgeon.

On Bane's instructions he shipped the ailing mercenary to Gotham General Hospital accompanied by two armed men and a medic, with orders to strong-arm doctors into performing emergency surgery.

As Eric had no more patients, he was tending to the shutdown procedures of the mezzanine's makeshift hospital when he detected the sound of high heels approaching from a nearby dark corridor.

From the darkness a woman emerged. She was an exotic beauty, as delicate as bone china, but the determined sound of her heels suggested she was a woman who always got her way.

Dr. Velez gulped. He knew her only too well.

"Miranda? What the hell are you doing? This is no place for you. We're surrounded by armed men, for God's sake."

Miranda smiled. "I'm touched by your concern, my love," she said. "Considering that we didn't part on the best of terms. A little bird told me that you were employed by the masked man."

"Yea well, I need to work, Miranda," he said almost apologetically. "I need to be a doctor, even though my affair with you cost me my license."

"It didn't have to be that way," Miranda cooed as she drew closer than Eric would have liked.

"That's right, it didn't have to be that way," Eric countered angrily. "We were consenting adults with no strings attached, remember? You didn't have to report me to the medical board, but you did so out of spite because all of a sudden you got possessive and wanted me to leave my wife. And then you paid to have your involvement in the scandal hushed up."

"Darling Eric," Miranda whispered as she slid her hands up his muscular chest. "I'm the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. I'd have been forced to step down if the truth came to light. I could have weathered the storm if I were a male, but women are judged differently."

"I don't know why everyone thinks you're so wonderful, Miranda. I've seen a different side of you, and it's ugly as hell."

"Let me make it up to you, Eric," she said sweetly as her fingertips played on his chest. "When I heard you were working for Bane I knew I had to see you again. I can't stop thinking of our first time, on the examination table in your office."

Unbeknownst to Eric and Miranda, a lone figure watched from below the mezzanine. Barsad lurked in the shadows by the escalator, watching intently as the scene played out. As the two figures moved away from his view, his chest tightened and his deep set, bright blue eyes burned with raw emotion.

*******

Bane stationed himself on the steps of City Hall, surveying his empire by early morning light as he gripped the lapels of his coat. Gotham belonged to him. He had made it so, and no one — not even Talia — could take that away from him.

There was law and order in the city now — his kind of law and order. Fear would keep the locals in line while he set his sights on seizing power from Talia.

"Take over brother," he grunted to Barsad. "I will be at my command post."

Barsad's chest swelled beneath the armoured vest he wore. "Right," he nodded. "I'll keep things nice and quiet," he said as he raised his assault rifle.

*******

Back in the sewers, Bane lay on his bunk and closed his eyes against the harsh, artificial light. He was an accomplished military commander, and yet he struggled to form a plan to overthrow Talia.

The reason why was all too clear. He was obsessed with the thought of seducing Parker Ainsley-Wood, even more so now that he knew more about her.

She had revealed to him that in addition to being an abusive husband, Christopher Ainsley-Wood had been an unsatisfactory lover.

Bane had noticed the way Parker's eyes greedily scanned his body, and had felt her shiver when he stroked her naked shoulder.

He was convinced that she was starved for the touch of a real man, and he intended to be that man.

His groin lurched as he imagined pulling her husband's flannel shirt from her shoulders and sliding her athletic pants to the floor.

She would be putty in hands, and she would not fear him as she had feared her husband, because he would give her what she wanted and needed.

Celibacy be damned. He would conquer the beautiful daughter of one of Gotham's wealthiest and respected founding families. Her falling in love with him would be the icing on the cake. And if he filled her with child, even better.

Bane's eyes opened with a start as he abruptly sat up from his supine position on the cot.

Even better.

Bane smirked behind the mask. He'd had a revelation. In an instant he no longer had a mental block as far as Talia's overthrow was concerned. The dam had burst, and ideas flooded his mind. For the next few days, he plotted.

********

Early one evening Bane mounted the stairs at the Montana and crashed through the barricade that Parker had built.

She screamed at the sound of the splintering door. She had just finished her shift at St. Mark's and was heating a small take-out dinner of fried chicken and a spinach salad. Stores and restaurants had gradually reopened under Bane's rule, in order to convince the people to trust him.

"Oh God," she fretted, initially expecting him to try to finish what started during his last visit. But she was relieved to see that he was formally dressed in a belted Belstaff jacket, and appeared to be all business as he ordered her to sit on the plush royal blue sofa.

"Do you know who I am, Parker? Do you know why I am here in Gotham?"

"Yes, I know who you are and why you're here. You're holding Gotham hostage. You have a bomb. You're either going to detonate it if someone tries to leave the city, or you're going to allow it to run its course and explode in five months. You want to make the wealthy suffer while you supposedly prop up the poor, and allow them to loot this town."

"It is true that I am going to burn this city to the ground," Bane confirmed. "I have planned and executed every step necessary to successfully occupying Gotham. I have dedicated a considerable number of years to this moment. However, I have superiors who consider me a mere thug - an errand boy for my rival. They tolerate me because I saved her life when she was a child."

Parker's eyebrow rose and she took the risk of taunting him.

"Your rival is a woman? Hmm, that must be hard to swallow for a big strong masculine like yourself, Mr. Bane."

Bane hovered over her, his chocolate coloured eyes drilling into hers, as his hands gripped the lapels of his jacket. "You will no longer address me as mister," he growled. "You will understand why in a moment."

"Please get to the point," Parker replied, as her stomach knotted with sudden dread.

"Indeed, my rival is a woman. She is the head of the organization I serve, and I want what she has. It belongs to me."

"Why does it belong to you, may I ask?"

Bane paced back and forth before Parker as his fingertips touched. "You see what I have accomplished here in Gotham. The stock exchange, the stadium, Blackgate prison. What you did not see was a mid-air prisoner transfer at 10,000 feet. All my work," he boasted.

"Alright. What does your rival do?"

"Over the years she has ingratiated herself into Gotham society as a philanthropist and an admired business executive. She holds an annual ball, she courts the attention of powerful men, engages their trust and their lust. They unwittingly provide her with information and access that is essential to my role."

"Well," Parker shrugged. "That sounds like an important job too."

"I agree," Bane conceded. "But she could not do it without me. We have always been somewhat of a team."

"Then why do you call her your rival?"

"I cannot go into details, but with my help she is here to settle an old score, which will be her crowning achievement. Unfortunately, unspoken tensions have risen between us over the last several months, and I suspect she is acting for her own benefit rather than for our benefit. I expect her to take the lion's share of the glory when we return to our colleagues at base. My accomplishments will be swept under the carpet and forgotten, and I cannot allow that to happen.

Parker's eyebrow rose. "If it makes you feel any better, I doubt Gotham will forget you."

"Indeed, they won't." Bane agreed, smiling. "They will remember that I left them with the bones of new city, and a lesson to do better. Gotham will be reborn, as we always intended. However, I wish to leave something else as well. A legacy. A monument to my achievements."

"So what do you want? A statue in the park?

Bane stifled a chuckle behind the mask. "Not a statue, Parker. I seek a living legacy. A flesh and blood monument to my achievements."

Parker's palms began to sweat as she turned her gaze downward.

"I have ambitions to be a founding father," Bane explained, as he lifted her chin to look at him. "To have my blood flow through the veins of the new city. I want descendants, Parker, and therefore I need a partner."

"You're insane!" Parker cried as and she jumped to her feet. "How dare you suggest such a thing to me! I won't do it!"

She tried to brush past Bane, but he already had a firm grip on her wrist and a determined gleam in his eye.

"Mrs. Christopher Ainsley-Wood." Bane's voice lowered as he began his recitation. "Parker Ainsley-Wood. Heiress to t!he Willoughby coffee empire. Educated at Miss Porter's School and Bryn Mawr. Vice-Chair, Gotham City Ballet. Board member, The Lighthouse Theatre. Patron, Gotham Central Library."

"No, please no!" Parker begged.

"Ah yes, you will do nicely, Parker," Bane replied calmly.

"I didn't want a child with Christopher and I don't want one with you! You can't do this, you depraved monster!"

"I can and I will," Bane rumbled, oblivious to her struggling. "When the old guard at base learns that the prison-born brute conquered a beautiful Gotham socialite, made her love him and produced a child, I expect they will be quite pleased. My blood mingled with one of the founding families of Gotham. No other member of my organization has ever crushed a city and left a family behind as a permanent reminder of victory. I am confident that I will best my rival in their eyes."

"I won't allow you to use me to gain favour with your superiors," she hissed.

With her free hand she circled Bane's wrist and squeezed its protective guard as hard as she could. Bane abruptly released her, as his injured wrist was another of his achilles' heels.

"Stay away from me," Parker shouted as she ran into the master bedroom, slammed and locked the door.

Bane approached the bedroom door lazily. "Oh come now, my dear," he called, addressing the closed door. "Am I really such an ogre?"

"You're a beast! A killer!"

"What was it you said to me the day we met? I owe you everything."

Inside the master bedroom, Parker slumped against the door, tears flooding her cheeks.

"I gave you millions of dollars and my diamonds," she sobbed. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

"I owe you everything," Bane repeated over the sound of her sobs. "You will give me a child, and return with him to Gotham as it rebuilds. When he grows to manhood, he will procreate, as will his son when the time comes, and so on. My family. My legacy. A monument to my achievements in the city. In return for your cooperation, I will of course take you out of Gotham prior to its demise."

He spoke again after a long moment of silence between them, and this time his tone was threatening.

"If you refuse me, you will die with this city. In the meantime, I will give you time to acclimate to the idea, and then I will be in touch with more details."

The soft sobbing behind the door continued, as Bane spoke again.

"Make no mistake, my dear Parker. This is going to happen."

*******

Parker grabbed her plain coat after Bane left and rushed out of the townhouse, blindly running through the cold, empty streets. She was delirious, and feeling helpless with nowhere to turn.

"Hey!" Selina cautioned as she spotted Parker charging in her direction through the snow. "Slow down or you're going to attract attention. Then we'll both be in trouble!"

"Selina," Parker blubbered. The widowed heiress then spilled the whole sordid story of Bane's proposition. Selina listened impassively as Parker described every detail of the encounter, including the one where he had tried to seduce her.

"Bane is just another powerful man who thinks the world of himself," Selina shrugged. "I've had to be with a lot of men just to survive in this world. He's scary but he's also attractive, and that's a dangerous combination. You don't just look at that body and not feel a sinful twinge."

"Yes, I've noticed." Parker admitted hastily as a blush spread over her pale complexion. "But I feel so degraded and humiliated by the mere suggestion of having his baby. I'm not a tool for his ambition. I should never have gone to thank him that first day. What a fool I was. Christopher's death released me from one trap, and now I find myself in another."

"And I thought I had it bad," Selina shook her head. "Poor Parker. Wealth and privilege haven't shielded you from the harshness of the real world."

"Selina, please - you're street smart. Help me hide from him!"

"Use your brains," the cat burglar scoffed as she rolled her eyes. "The man is offering you a way off this island before it explodes. Take it, otherwise you'll die with the rest of us."

"I don't want a child! Certainly not his."

Selina shoved her hands into the pockets of her pea coat, growing impatient with the needy heiress. "Look, he wants you."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that," Parker shivered.

"So..." Selina drawled in a patronizing tone. "Forget about the details, and look at the bigger picture for now. You hold all the cards, honey. Make him the right counter-offer and you could save an entire city."

Parker frowned."What do you mean by that?"

"You're a woman. You'll figure it out."


	6. Chapter 6

On the 20th floor of City Hall, Bane sat in the deceased mayor's luxurious leather desk chair, watching news reports of the occupation on the giant flat screen television.

A knock broke his concentration, and a voice sounded from outside the door.

"It's Dr. Velez."

"Come!" Bane commanded.

The physically fit doctor entered the office with a thin file and handed it to Bane.

"It's good news. There's no sign that your analgesic has done any damage. Your count is healthy. In fact, it's well above average."

Bane smirked and opened the file, examining the document inside.

"Thank you, doctor," he croaked. "I trust this will remain confidential, otherwise you will die…painfully."

"The information won't leave this room," Dr. Velez replied uneasily. "I still have some scruples." He paused at the door and addressed Bane once more.

"Just between you and me, do you plan on starting a family, or are you just settling a bet with Barsad."

Bane leaned back in the large leather chair. "I have noticed that there is some tension between you and Mr. Barsad," he said, deflecting the doctor's question. "Why is it you dislike one another so much?"

"I have no idea," the doctor replied truthfully. "All I know is that he's hated me from the first moment we met. Whatever is going on between us is strictly his problem."

*******

Inside the large utility kitchen at St. Mark's Church, Parker was busy preparing an industrial size pot of vegetable soup. She'd noticed that the church had a limited range of food supplies, which made the meals it offered bland, and not very healthy. She'd taken it upon herself to do some black market grocery shopping, where she willingly paid sky-high prices for bulk food so that people who relied on the church for meals could eat better. With the help of a fellow volunteer she chopped large amounts of celery, carrots, onions, potatoes and green beans, and sautéed them in olive oil at the bottom of the soup pot. When the vegetables were done, she added a load of diced tomatoes, stirring the mixture for a few more minutes. It was a hearty soup recipe that she hoped wouldn't interfere with any dietary restrictions.

As she and a volunteer added measured amounts of broth, water and salt, Barsad burst into the kitchen.

"Parker, come with me," he ordered.

"How did you know where to find me?" She demanded.

"Never mind," the sniper replied tersely, as he grabbed her arm. "Come with me."

"I told you to never touch me again," Parker hissed, pulling away from him. "Let go of my arm!"

"Oh stop with the protestations, lady," Barsad complained. "You high and mighty types really get on my nerves."

"Misty!" Parker called to the volunteer who had been assisting her. "Stir and simmer the soup for 25 minutes!"

As Barsad hustled her down the aisle between the rows of pews, an authoritative voice followed them. It belonged to Reverend Bill Coe, the minister who was also Cassandra's father.

"Wait a minute, sir! What do you want with this woman," he bellowed.

"The big guy wants to see her, Preacher."

"I don't care," the minister replied ominously as he towered over the much shorter Barsad. "This is a sanctuary. You can't take her, and you can't bring that weapon in here!"

"I can do whatever the hell I want," Barsad threatened coldly. "Bane wants to have a chat with her."

"We've all seen what Bane can do while he's having a little chat," the minister replied darkly.

"Reverend Coe, please," Parker insisted. "Don't make a fuss. I know what this is about, and I'll be fine. She looked into the black man's worried eyes and nodded, but the minister refused to back down.

"What business does Bane have with Mrs. Ainsley-Wood?" He demanded.

"Damned if I know," Barsad shrugged. "Let's go, Parker."

Not wanting his church to become Barsad's shooting gallery, the conflicted minister reluctantly allowed them to pass and watched dejectedly as they exited the main doors of the church.

*******

Parker held her breath as she rode the lone working City Hall elevator with Barsad, wary of being sexually harassed by him again.

It had been ten days since Bane first suggested his plan to her, and the more she thought about it, the more absurd it seemed to her. Time and time again she told herself that he had likely come to the same conclusion and would never follow up with her. And yet she was ready for another encounter with him.

The elevator doors scraped open and Barsad pushed Parker into the dead mayor's expansive office, closing the heavy double doors behind her.

"Please sit down, Parker," Bane said politely as he raised his hulking body from the leather desk chair. He was pleased to see her again. In truth, he'd thought of little else but her in the last 10 days. He had largely handed his duties over to Barsad while he lay on his bunk engaged in fantasies of the beautiful socialite submitting to him.

His ardor for her hadn't wavered in the past ten days. In truth, Bane experienced an unusual fluttering in his belly at the sight of her, which prompted the sudden realization that she had power over him. She was wearing an ivory and brown checked shirt that belonged to her dead husband, and it made her hazel eyes glow like amber.

"No thank you," Parker replied, laying her coat on a nearby chair and stifling a blush at the sight of the muscle-bound mercenary's revealing black shirt. "This won't take long."

Bane's dark chocolate eyes danced with amusement. "What make you say that, my dear," he asked as his twitchy fingers tapped the surface of the desk.

"I'm actually a little surprised to be here, Bane, considering what you proposed for me the last time we met. It's a ridiculous idea, and I'm sure you've come to the same conclusion. Surely there are other ways to benefit your own pride?"

"You will get your fair share of benefits too, Parker," Bane replied. "If not for me, your husband would be alive and you would still be living in fear day after day. Hiding from the world when your injuries were fresh. Pleading illness to explain your absence at social occasions. Whispered about by your so-called friends."

Parker moved to the office's expansive windows and stared at the chaos on the street below. Bane had made an excellent point. Christopher was dead and she was free. She deserved to start a new life, rather than die in an explosion. But the price of freedom was high.

"The plan is simple," Bane continued. "Once you conceive, I will remove you from Gotham and you will live wherever you wish whilst you await the birth of the child. London, Paris, New York..."

"And you would have me watched 24 hours a day to ensure that I don't run off," Parker suggested.

"Of course!" Bane chirped. "When Gotham rises from the ashes and a new population floods into the city, you will return with the child to stake your claim as one of the new city's founding families. Gotham must know that your child is mine in order for him to take his rightful place as the son of the old city's conqueror. I think it best that you claim that I took you by force during the occupation, and the child was the result. There should be enormous public sympathy and admiration for you because you chose to raise the child of your rapist.

"I'd never say that," Parker frowned, disturbed by the suggestion. "I've already been a battered wife. I have no desire to be a rape victim too!"

Encouraged by signs that she was seriously considering the arrangement he joined her at the windows.

"Fair enough," he warbled. "What would you suggest, my dear?"

His nearness unnerved her, and not because she feared him. She feared her body's reaction to the intoxicating masculinity that oozed from his tight black shirt.

"Hypothetically, I suppose I'd have no problem saying that I had a fling with you," she said as impassively as possible, careful not to look at him. "Certainly there's no social stigma. In my circle, affairs are the accepted thing. An affair is more acceptable to me than rape."

Bane's chest swelled as his manhood stiffened. "Very well," he rumbled, careful not to show too much enthusiasm. "An affair. One for which you have no regrets!"

"Of course not. People of my station don't have scruples or regrets, as I'm sure you'll agree. That said, I may be corrupt, but at least I understand that the only reason to bring a child into this world is because he or she is truly wanted and would be loved, not to exist as a vanity project."

Bane's dark eyes found hers for a long moment.

"I was not wanted or loved, Parker." he stated bluntly. "And yet I was born."

"I'm sorry about that," she replied, stunned by his stark declaration. "That's no justification for what you have in mind. Where would you be while I'm bringing up a child I don't want?"

Bane readily admitted to himself that he hadn't quite worked that part out yet. "These things will fall into place," he assured her. "My son will know me."

"Know you? What if he doesn't even like you? What if he's ashamed of you? What if he's bullied and ostracized because he's your son?"

"He will learn to fight, as I did in prison," Bane reasoned.

"What if he inherits your traits, and becomes another you?" Parker demanded. "I don't want a child, and I certainly don't want one who's going to take after you!"

Bane's cheeks flushed angrily in the face of Parker's speculation.

"I will decide how to mold him, my dear," he cautioned. "However, I have every confidence that you will be a good influence on him. And when he's grown he will become a well respected, prominent citizen. The Bane family will replace the Wayne family in social prominence."

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you," she muttered as she turned away from him. "A child is a huge responsibility." She frowned and wondered if sub-consciously she was beginning to believe that she would always owe Bane for killing Christopher.

"You will have all the help you need to raise him."

"What would happen if I didn't conceive between now and detonation?"

"Then you will leave Gotham, and be with me until you do."

"If I were to do this then I would only lie back and think of Gotham. Don't expect anything more from me!"

Bane's brow furrowed in amusement at her declaration. She was proving to be very elusive. When their coupling finally happened he fully expected a thermo-nuclear meltdown. She was sexually deprived and she was attracted to him. He had been celibate for too long, but he knew how to deliver.

"Our child will be beautiful."

Parker glanced at him warily. "That depends on what's behind that mask."

"You will not be disappointed," Bane assured her.

From the windows of the 20th floor, the bleakness of Grand Avenue was only too evident to Parker. The overturned cars and broken windows, uprooted trees and concrete rubble had made the public thoroughfare a danger to pedestrians. One particular large tree lay over a crushed Audi Civic, its roots extended almost halfway across the avenue.

As Parker stared at the tree's heavy roots she remembered Selina's advice. She could save the city by making the right counter-offer.

"Well... maybe there is some arrangement to be made..." she acquiesced reluctantly.

Bane's brow furrowed and a knowing smirk formed behind the mask.

"You want something. You wish to bargain," he rumbled lowly as his member stiffened further. He was pleased to see that she had taken control of her fluctuating emotions, and had apparently grown a spine in the days since he'd last seen her.

"Of course I want something!"

Bane moved closer to her, drawing her clean scent into his mask and imagining how it would feel to explore the curves of her body with his large, workman-like hands. "Tell me, what is it?"

"See what you've done to the city? It will take ten years to repair the infrastructure you destroyed. The sewer system and tunnels, the bridges, the torn up roads and public places. Isn't that enough for you? Why do you have to burn it to the ground as well?"

"I am still waiting for you to tell me what you want," he murmured darkly.

"Isn't it obvious? If I were to agree to your silly vanity project, then you would have to take your men and your bomb, and leave Gotham City!"

"Oh no, my dear Parker. That will not do. It will defeat the purpose of my vanity project, as you so delicately refer to it. I have an obligation to deliver what my predecessors never could. Gotham must incinerate. Further, it must be reborn with my blood flowing through its veins, so that I may seize power from my rival. I am determined that it will be so."

"Fine," Parker shrugged as she picked up her coat and made to leave. "I suggest you find some other rich and corrupt woman to bear your legacy child. Goodbye."

Bane snatched her by the wrist, his eyes smouldering.

Mistaking his desire for the need to control and struggling in his grip, she gasped. "Please don't stoop to my husband's level,"

"I am not he," Bane snarled resentfully. "He was a poor excuse for a man who did not deserve you!"

Parker nodded, blushing at Bane's intimate observeration. "No. He didn't."

They stood in silence for several moments, each of them breathing heavily.

"I will get what I want. All of it," Bane threatened quietly, "Or you will die with the rest of Gotham."

Parker rubbed her wrist and buttoned her plain winter coat.

"This is not just about your legacy or defeating your rival or being crowned king of whatever terrorist group you crawled out of."

Bane's brow arched, pleased that she had apparently bounced back from a moment of vulnerability.

"You want me in your bed, and you want me to fall in love with you." Parker pushed opened the heavy office doors and glanced back at him. "So you think about all the things you want. Decide what's really important, and we'll talk again."

In the dark alley that separated City Hall from the Court House, Talia and Barsad met to discuss the latest intelligence Miranda Tate had gathered from Lucius Fox since the disappearance of Bruce Wayne.

"Miranda Tate has Mr. Fox in the palm of her hand, brother. He trusts her, and I have no doubt he will reveal any and all information to her now that Bruce is out of the picture."

"We expect nothing but results from Miranda," Barsad grinned, before his expression suddenly grew serious. "I saw her with Dr. Velez the other night at City Hall. Did she sleep with him?"

Talia cocked her head and was silent for a moment.

"No, she didn't," She admitted reluctantly. "It seems the doctor has grown a conscience since his affair with her, losing his medical license and his wife. So, he rejected Miranda's advances."

"Good," Barsad exclaimed with unabashed relief. "I don't have to remind you how dangerous it is for Miranda to indulge in Talia-like behaviour. Miranda Tate is no home-wrecker."

"Miranda's affair was strategy, brother," Talia assured him. "She is well aware of her pristine reputation, but she needed a vacation from herself. She arranged for the scandal to be covered up, and there will be no more instances like it."

"Then why did she try to seduce him the other night?" Barsad demanded, not wanting to let the issue drop.

"My my! One would think you were jealous, Barsad," Talia chuckled as she she moved past him through the alley. "I was testing Eric to ensure that Bane can rely on his loyalty and discretion. Lucky for him he passed, or else I would have let you kill him."

Barsad's blue eyes narrowed. He knew Talia was lying, a fact that tied his stomach up in knots.

"I may still do that," he grumbled as he followed her out of the narrow passage.


	7. Chapter 7

"I told him I would do as he asked if he left Gotham and took his bomb and his men with him. He refused of course, because he has ambitions to impress his superiors in a big way. He can't do that unless he first follows orders and burns the city to the ground."

Parker found Selina in her usual stomping grounds, where the cat burglar discreetly patrolled the underpasses for thugs and looters looking for a quick hiding place. She had grown quite fond of Selina's laconic style and found her uncompromising common sense strangely comforting.

"Nice try, but you wouldn't really have had his kid if it meant saving the city. You uptown types aren't the self-sacrificing kind," Selina observed cynically.

Parker smiled. "We're at a stalemate, thank goodness. Even though I told him to think about it, I doubt he'll pursue the matter now because neither one of us is going to budge."

"I don't suppose you've screwed him yet?"

"Selina!" Parker admonished as her face turned beet read. "Of course not."

"Look, we women have gifts that we should never hesitate to use. Seduce him, Parker. Make him forget all about his stupid living legacy. Give him everything he wants in bed, and tell him there's more to come if he pulls his bomb and his people out of Gotham."

"I don't think so…" Parker shook her head, looking down at her shuffling feet. "That's more your line of work, Selina."

"Well, don't expect me to take your place," she drawled. "He may be a son of a bitch, but at the end of the day he's still a man with a beating heart and a throbbing penis. You should exploit that."

Selina's expertly painted lips stretched into a wide smile across her white teeth as she leaned in to whisper into Parker's ears.

"Put him out of his misery, honey."

*********

A few days later, Parker sat perched on her kitchen countertop, sipping a steaming takeout cup of orange pekoe tea and nibbling on brioche french toast from one of her favourite high-end bakeries. She had gone out early that morning because she had awakened with a deep craving for the gourmet life she had lead before Bane occupied Gotham.

She felt guilty not going to the church and partaking of breakfast there, but she couldn't deny her own cravings on this particular day.

Not that the food at St. Mark's hadn't improved. In had, because in addition to buying bulk food with her own money at black market prices for the church kitchen, Parker had begun to make further contributions in the form of more nutritious recipes. She'd organized lots of comfort meals - soups, stews, and gratins as well as a variety of salads, rice and quinoa dishes for both carnivores and vegans.

Although Rev. Coe was concerned about how her extravagance looked to some of the less fortunate of his congregation, he couldn't deny that she was a beacon of hope that had arrived at the church in a time when it needed her most. Parker's generosity enabled the St. Mark's community to eat healthier despite the shortages of affordable food through normal channels.

Parker moved to the torn plush blue sectional and closed her eyes, divesting herself of all that preoccupied her. She lay her head back and was almost asleep when scuffling sounds disturbed her reverie. As Parker roused herself, Bane and Barsad burst through the door with a prisoner.

"Get down and stay down," Barsad ordered as he shoved the shackled man to his knees and held a rifle to his head.

Parker blanched, experiencing shock and fear the likes of which she hadn't felt in weeks.

"Chri-Christopher?" Her words were strained and struggled to escape her throat. "You're..you're alive?"

"I caught him slinking up the back stairs. I recognized his pretty face from the news," Barsad boasted, taking a great deal of pride in his catch. His prisoner was bruised and battered, and it was clear that he'd been through a great deal of emotional and physical trauma.

Bane frowned as an unfamiliar feeling of unease washed over him. Here was Christopher Ainsley-Wood, Parker's husband and the source of all her misery. Indeed he was handsome, despite his injuries.

"Remove the tape," Bane ordered, waving his forefinger.

Barsad took great pleasure in ripping the shiny strip of grey duct tape from Christopher's mouth.

"You fucking sadist," Christopher spat as his eyes watered in reaction to the stinging waves of pain. He didn't seem to notice or care about Barsad's powerful assault rifle.

"Where have you been, Parker? Why didn't you come for me?" he cried, as his watering eyes transformed into genuine tears.

Even in her current state of shock, Parker recognized that breaking into tears was one of Christopher's favourite ways to gain sympathy and get what he wanted.

"Because I didn't know you were alive! My god... how is it possible?" Parker babbled. "They...they told me you were dead. Burned beyond recognition along with the mayor and some other men."

"Oh no, no, no," Christopher whined, clearly disappointed by her answer. "I wasn't dead. I was in a coma at Gotham General and nobody knew who I was because my wallet and phone were missing. It was only when I woke that one of the nurses recognized me. They told me I hadn't had any visitors," he blubbered. "Why didn't you come looking for me? You should have sensed that I survived, Parker! I'm a winner. I always come out on top. You should have remembered that and come looking for me!"

Although Bane had thus far not said a word, his cold dark stare and furrowed brow remained fixed on Parker, silently willing her to stand her ground.

"Don't tell me what you think I should have known," she replied defensively. "I've told you before, I'm not a mind-reader! There were three guests listed in the mayor's calendar, and you were one of them."

"Dammit, Parker!" Christopher roared. "One of the guys brought a friend. I wasn't in the box when it exploded. I was taking a piss in the men's room. It's all I remember until I woke up in the hospital. You're my wife. You should have moved heaven and earth to locate me. Instead I find you with this, this thug." He gestured disrespectively towards Bane with his cuffed wrists. "What have you done? Thrown in with him? After he tried to kill me?"

Bane took two heavy steps, hovering over the suddenly intimidated Christopher.

"She is no longer your wife," he declared before Parker could respond. "You lost that privilege the first time you blackened her eye."

"What's that supposed to mean," the handsome hedge fund genius demanded.

"It means that Parker belongs to me now," Bane replied with lethal calm. "I first took her on the very bed where you so often failed her."

Parker gasped at Bane's bald-faced lie, as shocked and stunned as Christopher by the mercenary's bold claim.

"Wh-what? Parker, is that true? Christopher's lower lip trembled.

Her nervous glance darted between Bane and Christopher. For weeks Parker had been slowly detaching herself from the barbed wire of her marriage. Suddenly all the progress was gone. Christopher was alive. She was still married to him. Still trapped.

"Yes, it's true."

Bane preened at Parker's response, while Christopher shivered as he struggled to compose himself.

"Oh, God," he muttered. "Look, I... I forgive your adultery. Can you just please use your influence on him? Ask him to release me? We can start again, Parker."

"I'm afraid you haven't been listening, Mr. Ainsley-Wood," Bane interjected. "I told you, Parker belongs to me. She will never return to you. Your fate is to die with this city."

"No! I promise you," Christopher insisted, ignoring Bane. "Parker, I've changed. A coma will do that to a man."

Parker's expression darkened and she surprised herself by slapping Christopher hard across the face.

"You haven't changed a bit," she hissed. "You forgive my adultery?" Her hazel eyes glittered with tears as she swiped for photos on her smartphone, revealing them one by one.

"This was the day you punched me because you claimed I flirted with the doorman in the lobby. I got off easy with a black eye."

She swiped again.

"And this is the night you split my lip because I had a panic attack at the Charity Ball."

Parker swiped a third and final time, her angry forefinger finding the holy grail.

"And this is me... on the day you found my birth control pills. The day you held me down on the floor while you choked and punched me. The day the stadium blew up!"

"You lied to me!" Christopher screamed as he lunged forward as far as his shackled ankles and wrists would allow. "We were supposed to be starting a family! You betrayed me! How was I supposed to react?"

"Did you really think I was going to bring a child into a toxic household?" Parker yelled. "I tried to explain that to you, but you never listen to me! You only wanted a child because it was good for your image. Do you think I'd allow you to beat a child as well as me? Don't you dare say that you forgive my adultery when Cassandra Coe was plotting to be your mistress!"

Christopher sat back on his haunches.

"You know about her?" He asked quietly. "She meant nothing, Parker. She was just another fuck."

"Every woman is just another fuck to you, Christopher. Even your wife."

Bane had grown increasingly weary of the domestic drama unfolding before him and chose to interfere once more. He'd heard quite enough of the mendacity that characterized the modern American marriage.

"Enough," he bellowed. "Take the prisoner away and lock him up, brother."

"Sure you don't want me to shoot him?" Barsad asked. "I could use some target practise."

"No," Bane replied ominously. "Let him stew in his shackles for now."

"Parker! Parker!" Christopher yelled as Barsad dragged him out of his own home. "Ask him to let me go. Please?"

The suite door slammed shut and Bane remained alone with Parker.

She had returned to her seat on the blue plush sofa, gathering her composure while Bane's metallic breathing filtered the silence.

"What will you do with him?"

Bane hovered above her. "I was hoping you would make that decision for me."

"No, we have a complicated history together. He treated me badly, but I won't condemn him to death. Please don't ask me to administer the thumbs down."

"Very well. We will keep him under lock and key for the time being. Your husband has a monstrous ego. He demanded perfection from you and struck you when he didn't get it. You should not feel charitable towards him."

"I know," she said as a single tear rolled down her cheek. I have to keep reminding myself of that." She rubbed her palms together, deciding it was time to change the subject and acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"Why did you lie to Christopher about us?"

"Why did you play along?" He countered, smirking beneath the mask.

"Because...because, I wanted to hurt him."

Her answer was exhilarating, and his member swelled and stiffened in reaction. It was then he decided to take a very big risk. One that he hoped would pay off.

"It occurs to me, Parker, that since my explosions failed to kill your husband, you are no longer indebted to me, and therefore our proposed arrangement is null and void. I suppose I could kill Mr. Ainsley-Wood with my bare hands, but it would not have the same impact as dying violently at Rogues Stadium, would it my dear? You would not experience the same level of shock and relief that led you to impulsively claim that you were in my debt."

"No. I don't suppose I would," Parker agreed.

"I will take my leave now. When we meet again, we will decide what is to be done with your husband."

And then he was gone.

Parker could hear her heart lurching in the silence as Bane's words danced back and forth in her mind, provoking tantalizing fantasies.

"I first took her on the very bed where you so often failed her."

She smiled, as low laughter escaped her throat. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed, and suddenly saw it as big, green "Go" sign.

Parker rushed to the door and threw it open, shouting in a voice she barely recognized.

"Wait!"

Down the corridor, the mercenary stopped in his tracks, exhaling as he smiled broadly behind the mask. Hopefully his strategy was about to pay off, and his celibacy was at an end.

There followed a long silence during which Parker assumed he was already out of earshot. She groaned in disappointment, and collapsed against the door.

The welcome sound of distant footsteps and mechanical breathing eventually broke the silence.

She opened her eyes to find Bane standing in the hall opposite her. His dark chocolate eyes shone with lust and purpose.

"Yes, my dear?"

"I..." Parker gulped. "You...you don't have to leave right away, do you?"

"There are no constraints on my time at present," he warbled lightly. "Forgive me for departing so abruptly. It must have been a great shock to see your husband alive, however I was pleased with the way you handled yourself."

"There's no way I could have had presence of mind if he hadn't been shackled. I would have been cowering in the corner otherwise."

"How could you have married such a man?" Bane closed the gap between them, trapping her between the suite door and his massive chest, while his fingers twitched angrily at his sides.

Parker was quiet for a moment, re-living a past of which she wasn't proud.

"I've always said that it was what my parents wanted," Parker admitted as she looked him directly in the eye. "The official story was that Christopher and I grew up together, and our families believed we'd make a good merger. But, the truth is that once upon a time I was a very spoiled and selfish girl. I was an only child, who demanded the best of everything. I competed with Caprice and Lily all my life, usually coming out on top. I had to have the fastest car on my 16h birthday, the wildest graduation party, and my wedding had to be the social event of the year. Caprice, Lily and I all competed for Christopher. I won't go into details, but I was determined to win him, and anybody who got in my way was collateral damage."

"In other words," Bane rumbled ominously. "You were everything that I despise about Gotham. You trampled over people in order to get what you wanted."

Parker nodded. "I knew about Christopher's tendency toward violence, but I thought I could tame him. When the hitting started, I retreated from public events whenever I had an injury. Some people say that the rich are different and that scandal rolls off their backs. I should have gone to the police, pressed charges, divorced Christopher and weathered the sensational headlines. Caprice and Lily will tell you I had it coming."

Bane should have been angered by her entitlement and blatant admission of corruption, and he should have responded by snapping her neck. Instead, her candour thrilled him and had made her even more desirable in his eyes. It was time to move forward.

"You did not call me back here just to confess your corruption," Bane rumbled. "Tell me what it is you really want, Parker."

"It's just that..." Parker stammered as Bane hovered over her. "Since you lied to Christopher about us, I thought maybe... maybe we..."

Bane smirked beneath the mask, blood coursing through his ever-stiffening member. "You thought that maybe we should turn a lie into truth."

Parker blushed and shrugged. "There's no reason to deceive Christopher."

Bane's brow furrowed as he backed Parker into the suite.

"I am in agreement, Parker. So shall it be. Let us turn a lie into truth."

"Yes," she gasped softly. "Please." The delicious sensations that bloomed in her belly whenever he was near had begun to overwhelm her. Christopher had rarely, if ever, made her feel that way.

"If that is what you truly want, then we shall do it on my terms," Ben replied sternly. "Our previous arrangement will proceed as I intended, without your conditions. Gotham will burn, you will bear my living legacy and he will take his place among the founding fathers of the new city. The League of Shadows will have a permanent foothold in Gotham. If you are agreeable, then we can proceed."

Parker had no desire to fight as she felt herself being sucked into Bane's vortex. Although she hadn't forgotten Selina's advice to use sex to get what she wanted, she put it aside in her mind, because more than anything she needed to address her own physical needs.

"I'm agreeable," she replied in the same voice she didn't recognize.

"There must be no looking back," Bane warned as he slid the oversized lumberjack shirt belonging to Christopher from her soft, naked shoulder. "There must be no regrets, and no accusations of impropriety on my part. Do you understand?"

"Fine. I take full responsibility for my actions with you here today," Parker panted as she struggled with the complicated enclosures of Bane's back brace.


	8. Chapter 8

Loud knocking roused Bane from his lustful state and stunted his throbbing manhood.

"What is it?" He growled in response to his second-in-command as his fingers twitched.

"We have a situation," Barsad called from the hall. "You need to come down."

Although Bane was furious that his liason with Parker had been interrupted, he nevertheless understood his duty. Dressing hastily, he followed Barsad down the spiral staircase, where he was greeted by the gruesome sight of the body of Christopher Ainsley-Wood.

"He tried to get away even though he was cuffed. He threw himself down the stairs, accidentally impaling himself," Barsad explained, indicating a gap in the gold-plated hand railing where a section of it had been ripped away, leaving two dangerously jagged ends on either side.

Bane's expression did not change as his eyes scanned the bleeding body of Parker's abusive husband.

"A fitting end," he rumbled. "Leave him there for now. I will bring her."

Back in the penthouse, Parker greeted Bane with a resigned expression, because she fully expected him to say that he had to leave in order to tend to some other business.

"Your husband is dead," he announced in blunt tones. It was the only way he knew how to deliver such news.

"What?"

"He is dead."

"Christopher... is dead? What...what happened?"

"There was an accident on the stairs," Bane replied. "He tried to run, fell on a section of broken railing that fatally wounded him."

"Oh my God," Parker gasped, as she cupped her mouth and rushed to the bathroom.

Bane followed and found her hanging over the toilet, enduring a mean case of the dry heaves. When she had settled down he took her arm and pulled her away.

"Come. I will take you to him."

"No," Parker said, shaking her head as she stared into the mercenary's eyes. "I think I'd like to see him alone, please."

"If you wish," Bane replied reluctantly. "It will not be pleasant for you."

Parker cautiously descended the stairs until Christopher's body came into view. He lay on his back with a deep wound to his mid-section. His shirt was soaked with blood as was the section of the hand railing that had been broken by looters.

She winced and looked away from the grisly scene. Although she felt faint, she eventually kneeled next to him and stroked his forehead gently.

"I wish things could have been different between us," she whispered. She closed her eyes for several moments, praying that one day she would be able to make an uneasy peace with the past.

Barsad helped her stand as she stifled a sob and shuffled back up the stairs.

The frowning mercenary was surprised when she rushed towards him, burying her face in his bulletproof vest.

It was an awkward moment, because Bane knew very little about giving comfort. His only experience was with Talia as a child, whenever she skinned a knee or didn't get her own way.

He wondered why Parker needed comfort following the death of a man who had routinely beat and berated her, and made her fearful. It was foolish of her to mourn the miscreant.

Instead of taking her in his arms, he merely rested his large hands on her hips. Parker responded with a shivering sigh and lifted her head to gaze into his hypnotic eyes. Her hands trailed down his vest, found his back brace, and for the second time that day she struggled to open its many fastenings.

Stunned by her actions, Bane smirked and let her proceed, reasoning that sleeping with him while Christopher's body was still warm would be a cathartic and physically liberating experience for her.

Bane shed his heavy vest as Parker pulled off her boots and led him into the bedroom.

His mask hissed and popped erratically as he slid Christopher's flannel shirt off her shoulder, exposing her breasts. It mattered little that she might be using him to make her pain go away, because the end result would favour him. He was the lover she deserved, and he was determined to have her, his legacy and all the glory that Talia denied him.

Tossing the torn duvet from the bed, he lowered Parker to the silk sheets.

"You are trembling," he observed as his dark chocolate gaze commanded Parker's eyes. His right hand moved to her waist, stripping off her athletic pants with ease."There is no need to fear me."

He regretted not being able to taste her, but he had no immediate access to his morphine injection. The mercenary was more than weary of the bonds of celibacy. He was erect and eager to plunge inside her. His unmasking would have to wait for another time.

His twitchy fingers dropped to his sides for a few moments, as if to contemplate his next move.

"Please. I need this now," Parker begged in hushed tones.

Bane growled, gripped her ankle and slid her off the pillows to the centre of the bed.

He was mindful of being too rough, but he was at the point where he could barely control himself. There was no time for pre-coital formalities. They both understood that they were headed straight for the main event.

"Then we are on the same page," he rumbled as he crawled on top of her, unzipped his cargo pants and parted her legs. He gasped at the sight of what Christopher Ainsley-Wood had squandered, and what would soon be his. Parker had the softest skin he'd ever touched, and he was pleased that none of Christopher's blows had inflicted any permanent physical damage.

"Do you know what they say about women like me? They say that we often leave one abusive relationship only to be trapped in another."

Bane's reaction was visceral.

"I am not like your husband," he croaked. Without further ceremony he thrust his stiff member inside her, only to regret it when she cried out sharply. It had never been his intention to hurt her or make her hate him, and he cursed himself for his lack of control.

His fears turned out to be unfounded, however, when Parker unexpectedly relaxed beneath him. Her head lolled sideways as she closed her eyes and sighed.

It wasn't difficult to get lost in the mesmerizing gaze of the homicidal villain of Gotham, and Parker did so as Bane stroked her with a deliberate pace that left her nothing short of euphoric. Moaning, she pressed her face against his shoulder while he moved in and out of her. As the tingling in her belly began to build toward a perfect storm, she wrapped her legs around the mercenary's waist. Christopher was all but forgotten.

Bane thrilled to the feel of her lips against his skin as he increased his speed. Celibacy had cost him too many years, and he was a fool for ever agreeing to it. With a determined growl he pushed Parker to the limit, plunging into her at a relentless pace. The bed shook violently as Parker raised her hips to meet every thrust.

Nature insisted on having its way, and Parker could feel her release coming far sooner than she wanted. With a startled cry she let it wash over her as Bane paused to share in her pleasure. He came soon afterwards, groaning with relief as he collapsed next to her. His long, dry spell had ended.

Their coupling was brief and messy, but they each got what they wanted.

When their breathing had calmed, Parker rolled on top of him and rested her head on his chest.

"No looking back, no regrets, and no accusations of impropriety," she said, echoing his own words as her forefinger gently traced his muscular arm.

********

Several days later, a tense Talia met with Barsad in a corner of the cold sub basement of City Hall, where Barsad continued to crow about the night he'd found Christopher Ainsley-Wood skulking up the stairs to his and Parker's penthouse.

"Oh stop it, brother," Talia said, annoyed by his braggadocio. "He was of no further use to us, since you and Bane emptied his safe. You shouldn't have bothered with him. Haven't I warned you not to get too involved with the locals?"

"I had nothing else to do, Talia! Besides, he was a classic case of everything that's wrong with Gotham. You shoulda seen the bastard's face when Bane said he was fucking Parker. It was priceless!"

As Talia tapped her foot impatiently, Barsad accurately sensed that something was bothering her.

"Bane should be here, but of course he is not. Come with me, brother," she said hastily as she took Barsad's arm. "I want to show you something."

Together they travelled in a black GMC Yukon to the parking garage of Bradbury Mansions, a luxury apartment building next door to the Montana.

"What are we doing here?" Barsad asked as they took the least damaged elevator to the 8th floor.

"You'll see." She led the sniper down the hall to penthouse number 821 and accessed the newly repaired lock with a passcode.

"Don't turn on the lights," she cautioned as she gestured to a bank of windows at the opposite side of the ransacked penthouse. "We must not be seen."

"Uhhh... that's the Montana across the way," Barsad observed. "Are we gonna spy on Parker?"

"Of course we are going to spy on Parker! And Bane," Talia preened. "Come now brother, you never struck me as the type who would pass up an opportunity like this!"

Barsad followed her to the windows, where one floor below at the Montana, Parker and Bane could clearly be seen through the broad windows. They were in bed together, their tangled bodies engaged in a rhythm beneath the sheets.

"Holy shit..." Barsad whispered in wonderment while Talia handed him a pair of binoculars. His mouth dropped open as he witnessed Bane grip the back of Parker's neck with one hand, lift her leg with the other and ram himself into her while the sheets fell to the floor.

"He was telling the truth! He is fucking her!"

"Indeed. Remember when you first reported the husband's capture and death, you said you thought Bane was bluffing when he claimed to have taken Parker to his bed. Something about that didn't sit right with me, so I began surveillance. It turns out he has been making secret visits up here for days. I must say, it's very careless of Parker not to close the blinds," the daughter of Ra's al Ghul observed dryly.

"Fuck me. There goes his long record of abstinence!"

"It was my father who enforced celibacy upon him," Talia reminisced. "Bane agreed to it because he was grateful to Father for rescuing him from the pit, and for protecting me. He maintained his celibacy even after Father ex-communicated him, because he had come to truly believe that it made him a more effective commander. Now I understand that it was only a matter of time before the dam burst."

Barsad lowered the binoculars for a moment and pressed his nose against the window.

"'Atta boy, brother," he cheered gleefully. "Send it home!"

"Hush," Talia frowned. "You see before you the kind of mischief a man can get into once all work has been completed and there is nothing left to do but wait for the bomb to explode."

Barsad's deep set blue eyes smouldered as he looked away from the window and reached across to unfasten the large buttons of her coat.

"Tell me about it."

Talia shivered as Barsad slid his hand inside the wide belt of her skirt and pulled her against him.

"You're insatiable, brother," she sighed as Barsad pulled off her coat. "Have I told you I like that in a man?"

With one well-toned arm she shoved Barsad into the waiting embrace of an art deco couch, kicked off her shoes, lifted her skirt and climbed on top of him. It was a routine they both knew well.

As Barsad set his armoured vest safely aside, Talia tore open his zipper, hissing when the sniper eagerly shoved his member inside her.

"They know nothing of what we have," Talia panted as she rocked against him, unleashing a wave of powerful sensations inside her womanhood. "They are merely fornicating. They do not know what it is to truly make love," she whispered into Barsad's ear.

********

Much later, Talia and Barsad adjusted their clothing as they readied to leave.

"Bane and Parker are still at it," Barsad observed, glancing out the windows again. "I'm never gonna be able to look him in the eye again without seeing the image of him porking her."

"Enough!" Talia spat as she slipped into Miranda Tate's heels. "I'm going to speak to him about it."

"Aw, now. Don't tell him you've been spying on him," Barsad admonished. "Let him have his dignity."

"Don't worry, brother. I won't embarrass him, even though he thoroughly deserves it," Talia assured him. "Come. I've seen enough for tonight."

********

The following day, Talia slipped away from Wayne Enterprises to confront Bane in the sewers.

Her Miranda heels clicked loudly on the cold concrete floor as she approached the mercenary in his underground command centre. She found Bane seated on a bench by the wash, reading a vintage paperback copy of 'In Cold Blood'.

"The men are gossiping, Bane," Talia announced. "There is a rumour that you have broken your vow of celibacy and taken a socialite to your bed. Parker Ainsley-Wood."

Bane's frowning gaze met hers, briefly acknowledging her presence before returning to the book. He was neither surprised that she knew, nor did he care.

Annoyed by his indifference, Talia pressed on.

"You know what my father always said. Intercourse weakens the legs."

Bane put down the paperback, raised his musclebound body, and rounded to face her.

"Then your knees must surely knock," he countered.

"Don't be crude! You know seduction is key to my role. It is however, a dangerous distraction in yours!"

"On the contrary, my dear. I have never felt more focused or powerful," the mercenary replied. "Like you I am free of sexual constraints. You have always championed my celibacy while openly flaunting your own appetites. Now it would seem that the chickens are coming home to roost."

"Of course, Bane," Talia said quickly. "I do understand you. Since you conquered an entire city, it only makes sense that you would want to take a beautiful, wealthy and corrupt woman of Gotham to your bed as a symbol of your victory. Just like all the great conquerers throughout history. It is the cherry on top, so to speak. The ultimate spoil!"

"I'm glad you understand, my dear." It pleased him that Talia assumed his dalliance was about sex and power. The daughter of Ra's al Ghul must never know that it was really about procreation and permanence.

"Does she please you, brother? She is a distant and damaged woman. I doubt she has the capacity for true passion."

"I possess her in a way that her husband never could," Bane boasted. "She responds to me in kind."

"So that's the way it is," Talia snorted. "Instead of loathing you as she should, she revels in your body. This city and all of its people are corrupt and depraved. The sooner we burn it down, the better."

"You must be patient, my dear. The end will surely come," Bane assured her as his eyes smiled.

Talia turned her back on him, intending to leave. She'd grown impatient with their strained relationship over the past several months, and she'd been unable to shake the growing notion that he was plotting something.

She suspected as much because she too was plotting. As soon as Gotham was destroyed, she planned to return in triumph to base, to be feted as the greatest Demon Head of all.

Bane's accomplishments would be ignored by the League elders who like Talia's father had never approved of him. She felt a twinge of regret over what was inevitable, but the Demon Head was her birthright, not Bane's.

"Why don't you love me?" Talia implored, faking vulnerability as she turned to face him again.

Bane sipped tea from his cup with a metal straw that slipped neatly through one of the mask's cylinders.

"But I do, my dear. Since the day you were born."

"You know what I mean, Bane! Why don't you love me as a man loves a woman? As my father loved my mother."

The mercenary's gaze settled on her in astonishment.

"Perhaps because I can clearly recall changing your nappies."

"But surely you've noticed I'm a grown woman, Bane," she intoned dramatically. "We are equals now, and it only matters that I love you as a woman loves a man."

"Have you not made similar declarations to other men?"

"Yes, but I don't love them. It's my role to say those things to men, but I love only you! Don't you understand, you blind fool?"

Bane grunted in disbelief, refusing to have any of her manipulative nonsense.

"If it will help our relationship, then I will step down from the League after Gotham." Talia insisted. "I will submit to your authority as my lover and as the new Demon Head. You'd like to be Demon Head one day, wouldn't you?"

Bane's dark eyes glittered dangerously.

"I don't believe you are capable of relinquishing your crown, my dear. Nevertheless, when I become Demon Head it will be because I earned it, and not because you stepped down."

"Very well," she conceded as a slight smile tugged at her lips. She had fully expected Bane to call her bluff, and he did not disappoint.

"Just remember, Bane. Unimaginable pleasures await you in my bed."

Bane dumped the now cold tea into the wash and placed his cup on the desk.

"Unimaginable pleasures that a hundred other men have sampled. I'm afraid I must decline your offer."

"Have it your way, then," she conceded. "The offer remains open should you tire of your rich plaything."

Talia smirked as she retreated to the surface. The game was on. Bane's unexpressed ambitions had finally come to light.

When I become Demon Head, he had said, "it will be because I earned it..."

She had every confidence that he was going to try to earn it in Gotham.


	9. Chapter 9

It had naturally fallen to Parker to make whatever arrangements she could with regard to Christopher's remains, thus she found herself negotiating obstacles in a city that remained very much at a standstill.

One morning there was a knock on her door, and through the peephole a surprised Parker caught sight of Selina.

"The thug pretending to be your concierge gave me the gory details about your husband's death," Selina drawled as Parker opened the door. "Congratulations. You're well rid of him, honey."

"Uh, thank you, I guess. It was difficult making his arrangements given the staggering body count in this city, but I managed to find a funeral home that could take him and everything is in order," Parker sighed. "Somehow I'll have to get his ashes to his parents in Palm Springs. Emotionally I'm okay, but I fully expect to have a post-traumatic response."

"Don't sweat it. He's not worth it," Selina replied dismissively. "It's a nice place you have here. A little bare for my tastes, but at least you have somewhere to sit," she said as she made herself comfortable on the torn blue sectional. "Now, how is it you're able to keep this place while other folks have been tossed out of theirs?"

"I can only assume that Bane has something to do with it, because I've never seen anyone lurking in the halls since the day I found some teenagers looting here. I suspect he has his people watching it. Anyway, what brings you here?"

"I haven't seen you around lately. Just making sure that he hadn't killed you."

"No. Far from it," Parker blushed. "He comes here most nights, and leaves me... very much alive."

Selina smirked. "At last! So, what's behind the mask?"

"A very beautiful man," Parker revealed shamelessly, rolling her eyes. "Breathtaking."

"Have you sweet-talked him into submission?"

"Not yet. I haven't progressed that far, because frankly I didn't... oh hell, Selina. Frankly I didn't expect that I would enjoy it so much."

"Listen, Parker. Leave your lust at the bedroom door if you have any hope of saving the city. Take it from me, it's the only way to control a man."

"I know, and I understand. Just give me time. I haven't wanted him to become suspicious of my ulterior motives."

"Look, I invented the game of looking after number one, so if you decide that saving the city is too big a mantle to take on, then just save yourself. I get it. But remember that sex is strictly business, and nothing else."

"Thanks," Parker nodded. "I appreciate the pep talk, Selina. I needed it. Now if only I can deceive him into deactivating the bomb."

"He has to make that decision on his own, with a little prodding from you in the bedroom. But don't go behind his back. If you think your husband's beatings were bad, just wait until you feel the back of Bane's hand or his fist. I saw for myself what he's capable of when I did a job for him not too long ago."

"You?" Parker asked, astounded. "What kind of job?"

Selina looked away as an expression of regret crossed her face. She'd thought of Bruce Wayne every day since, and of the stunningly horrific beating Bane had so easily inflicted upon him. What kept her sane was her own sense of self-preservation. The only thing that mattered was her need to escape a troubled past and forge a new life for herself. Since Bane locked down the city, those plans were up in the air but no less urgent.

"I delivered someone to him. Someone he beat to death right before my eyes. After that I realized my days were numbered, because Bane disposes of people who are no longer of use to him and who know too much. The only thing that saved me was being arrested on a previous charge and jailed at Blackgate."

Parker could only gape at Selina, wide-eyed and stunned that the other woman was capable of such darkness.

"Don't look so shocked, honey. A girl's gotta eat," she intoned as she rose from the couch. "See you around. Maybe you'll be preggers by then."

"Don't go just yet. Do you remember when I said Bane had a rival? A woman he suspects will diminish his work in Gotham in the eyes of their superiors? He says she's here, posing as an admired business executive. You seem to know everything, so if you've had dealings with him, do you have any idea of who she might be?"

Selina frowned. "No, but I'll keep my eyes and ears open. Why do you want to know?"

********

As Bane departed City Hall for his nightly walk uptown, he detected the sounds of frantic sighs and gasps coming from the aged freight elevator at the rear exit of the building.

Frowning, he pressed the ancient green button that summoned the rickety contraption, curious to know who among his men would be using the elevator for a sexual rendezvous.

The door slid open, and Bane's manhood swelled inside his cargo pants as he was confronted by the sight of Talia and Barsad in flagrante delicto.

Talia had braced herself on the well-worn hand rail, her legs splayed and pressed against the side of the elevator wall by the sniper as he plunged into her.

"Good evening!" Bane greeted them jovially. They both jumped at the sound of his mechanical bellow.

"Fuck!" Barsad whispered. Pulling away from Talia he zipped himself, swallowing hard as a mixture of guilt and fear crossed his face. The masked mercenary had been Talia's protector since she was an infant, and Barsad reckoned he wouldn't take kindly to one of his soldiers having illicit sex with her.

"This is not what it looks like, brother," Talia assured Bane, drunk with desire and recovering nicely at having been caught red-handed. "Barsad and I were merely scratching an itch." Her high heeled feet dropped noisily to the floor as she pulled her skirt down.

"Good night, brothers." The daughter of Ra's al Ghul wrapped herself in Miranda's cloth coat, savouring the irony that both she and Bane had stumbled upon one another's secrets. Tossing her chestnut hair, she smiled and sauntered into the dark alley.

Bane watched Talia depart before returning his gaze to Barsad. His brow quivered as he viewed his second-in-command in a brand new light.

Barsad, who believed himself as good as dead, stepped out of the elevator and steeled himself for what was to come.

"It appears I have under-estimated you, brother," Bane observed as his eyes shone with admiration.

"You're not… pissed?" Barsad asked hoarsely.

"On the contrary, I am extremely impressed by your audacity," the mercenary replied as he gripped the straps of his protective vest. "This elevator with that woman." Bane gestured to the alley where Talia had disappeared. "It takes a bold man indeed."

Barsad laughed nervously, still a little wary of his commander. At any moment the mercenary might turn on him and snap his neck.

"You must take care, brother," Bane advised solemnly. "She can break you."

"I'm not in love with her," Barsad insisted. "I have needs, and she's the best fuck in town."

Once again Bane's eyes smiled.

"That is the lie we tell ourselves to shield us from hurt."

********

In the wake of Selina's visit, Parker had reluctantly decided that it was time to take her advice and begin to work on Bane.

She was no Mata Hari, and that was the problem. Once Bane's skilled hands began to caress her body, she forgot about the fact that she didn't want a child. She forgot everything except how good he made her feel.

Fortunately, she had an instinct about how she should proceed, and decided to act upon it one evening when Bane had stayed much longer than he normally would.

"It's a shame you never spend the night," Parker complained as she lay sprawled on her pillow with a sheet discreetly covering her breasts. "I have this nightly appointment with you, and all that's missing is you leaving cash on the bedside table when you leave. It's not very flattering."

Bane smirked as he pulled on his back brace. He saw no reason why she should feel offended.

"We have a business arrangement," he rumbled. "You will eventually provide me with my legacy. In return I will spare your life. There is no reason for me to stay the night. If you feel slighted then you should know that prior to my arrangement with you I was a celibate man. You are receiving a gift that for years was refused to many."

"Oh, Bane! I don't believe that for a minute," she laughed.

"It is the truth. After I was rescued from the pit prison by the father of my rival, I went to live and train at his secluded mountaintop compound. There I also received a classical education in literature, maths and sciences. Although I had always been a voracious reader, there was a part of my education that was sorely lacking. So, I began to steal away to the village in the afternoons, where I deflowered many a virgin, and took some of their mothers as well."

"Oh, my!" Breathless, the captivated Parker's mouth dropped open and her eyes sparkled as Bane continued to speak.

"When my master learned of my activities, he forbade me from visiting the village without an escort, and demanded a vow of celibacy. I was indebted to him for having rescued me and giving me a chance to prove myself. I was also his daughter's protector, so I agreed to his demands. My newfound discipline resulted in my being a more focused and effective warrior.

Nevertheless, I found that I had gained something from my village encounters that would become very valuable to me. I learned that even in a fearsome mask, I was a profoundly attractive man. I channeled that knowledge into my training. Now, ordinary men cower before me not only out of fear, but also out of feelings of inadequacy."

Parker listened in rapt silence as renewed desire for him stirred in her belly.

"You arrived on my doorstep, my long term ambitions began to take form, and thus it was necessary to do away with the ancient discipline. Comfort yourself in the knowledge that we have an arrangement from which we both derive a great deal of pleasure."

"I won't deny that." Parker replied huskily. She raised herself from the pillow, having found her opening in Bane's tale. It was time to start taking control.

"Tell me about your rival," she whispered.

"You need not concern yourself with her," he boomed.

"It's just that you've mentioned her a number of times, and all I know about her is that she's posing as a business executive and that you think she's going to steal your thunder. You want to best her so badly that you're willing to have a child to accomplish your goals. So, as the woman who may give you that child, I think I deserve some transparency."

"Very well," Bane conceded. "Like yourself she is young and beautiful, if that is what you wish to know."

"Ahhh, just as I suspected," Parker smiled.

"Indeed. She is a goddess who is desired by many men."

"Mmmm... but none more than yourself, I would imagine."

Bane's brow furrowed, and he stared Parker down as she rose from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her nudity.

"I'll get to the point. I suspect that at the heart of your rivalry lies a simple truth. You want her," Parker speculated. "In fact, you just might be in love with her."

Bane's frown deepened as he reached for his protective vest. "Nonsense. Since the day she was born I have been her protector. You are being deliberately antagonistic."

"It sounds to me like she can take care of herself. And yet you're still referring to yourself as her protector. I wonder if it's because without this symbolic standing, you hold no other importance in her life."

Again Bane didn't answer, plagued by a growing uneasiness.

"You say she's desired by many men." Parker left the bed and approached him, the sheet beginning to unravel around her. "Do you lay awake at night, wondering who she's sleeping with and wishing it were you?"

"I am here to fill you with child, not to address baseless speculation," Bane wheezed irritably. "Our relationship is purely professional. I have no unspoken desire for her."

Parker chuckled softly as the sheet fell away to her feet, revealing her naked form.

"Then come back to bed and prove it to me."

Bane's fingers twitched as his breathing laboured through the mask. Growling, he put his uneasiness aside, accepted Parker's challenge and held her gaze as he backed her toward the bed.

********

Hours later, he lay on his bunk, wide awake and staring at the cavernous ceiling. He had chosen to return to the sewers instead of City Hall because he wanted no interruptions.

On one hand, he admitted to himself that he was thrilled by Parker's progress. Tonight she had taken the lead and seduced him, resulting in their most satisfying coupling yet. She was growing beyond her past as an abused wife into a calculating woman truly worthy of giving birth to his legacy.

On the other hand, she had filled his head with self-doubt, rendering him sleepless. He had managed to put his unease aside for a few hours while he took her for a second time, but in the cold sewers even the harsh, artificial light and the relentless sound of rushing water, couldn't shut out his thoughts.

He couldn't possibly desire Talia, could he?

He had changed her nappies, and raised her after her mother's death. The very idea that he would want her sexually was impossible.

After all, she had recently offered herself to him, and he had readily rejected her.

Why then, did he feel so uneasy?

Bane's mind returned to an old suspicion.

What was the true reason behind his ex-communication?

He had always suspected that Ra's' motivation for ousting him was threadbare. Did Ra's see something that Bane himself did not know? That the masked monster desired his daughter?

Why did he reject the 'unimaginable pleasures' Talia promised? Was it because he was jealous of all the other men who had tasted them?

Why did she keep the offer open? Did she know something that Bane was blind to? Did she know that Bane wanted her, and that it was only a matter of time until he submitted to her overtures?

Why had his member stiffened when he encountered Talia and Barsad fornicating in the elevator? Was it because at that moment he lived vicariously through Barsad?

He closed his eyes, again attempting to shut out all the questions bombarding his mind.

Parker was wrong. He couldn't possibly want Talia. He couldn't possibly be in love with her.

The mercenary abruptly sat up from the bunk as his own wise words to Barsad reverberated in his mind.

"That is the lie we tell ourselves to shield us from hurt."


	10. Chapter 10

Bane slid into the luxurious leather desk chair in the mayor's office and reached for the tv remote, intent on monitoring the daily news coverage.

There wasn't much to report. The city was locked down and there was no escape. What bridges remained undamaged were blocked and guarded by his men. The tension was palpable as broadcast networks grappled with various ways to cover the occupation.

The popular Gotham City Network focussed heavily on the humanitarian crisis that Bane had created, with homelessness, food rationing, garbage over-flow, and hospitals packed with patients suffering from physical and psychological injuries inflicted by his explosions.

Other networks presented endless talk shows speculating on the true nature of Bane's motives. They brought in military and law enforcement experts, some who theorized that Bane was bluffing. He wanted something from Gotham and would play his cards at the right moment, they reasoned. That 'something' was the target of endless speculation.

One conservative media giant championed Bane's politics and those who had joined his civilian army. It positioned Bane as a saviour who had lifted Gotham City up, and liberated the unjustly imprisoned. He had exposed corruption at the very top, and dragged the elites from gilded homes that were acquired on the backs of the people. Best of all, he had imposed his kind of law and order.

Bane smirked as he continued to surf through the channels of the giant television screen, savouring the irony of foolish followers who believed they had earned his favour. When the time came, they would die along with everyone else.

More than anything, the news coverage was a distraction from troubling thoughts. Parker's words had resonated deeply within him.

What if she were right, and his resentment of Talia was all about a long-standing subconscious desire for her?

It couldn't be. It was unseemly to feel lust for someone he'd cared for since before she could walk.

Were his near-paranoid suspicions about her motives a means to combat his forbidden feelings?

And was his long devotion to personal celibacy all about fending off a desire for her?

Bane switched off the remote and slammed his fist on the desk.

Parker had toyed with him, and he had fallen right into her trap.

Words. That's all they were. They meant nothing. He was determined to deny them, and would not allow them to interfere with his objectives.

********

Later that day, Barsad and Talia headed for the black GMC Yukon on the first level of City Hall's underground parking garage.

"Wanna have some fun before you go back to the Wayne Building?"

"Shame on you, brother," Talia teased. "We've already had fun today. Don't tell me you're ready for more!"

"That's not what I meant," he grinned. "Let's go to Bradbury Mansions. I have a surprise for you."

"This is why I adore you, brother," Talia sighed as she squeezed his arm. "You are always thinking of me!"

Barsad beamed as they climbed into the vehicle. At Bradbury Mansions, they rode the elevator to suite 821 in order to spy on Bane and Parker.

Across the alley at the Montana, Parker's bedroom, living room and parts of the kitchen and dining room could be seen from their observation point in the dark, ransacked suite.

"It looks like Bane hasn't arrived yet. She's alone," Talia said as she approached the large bank of windows.

They watched as Parker cleared her dinner dishes from the dining room table and took them to the kitchen. She then disappeared for several minutes.

"I have a hunch there's something more than sex going on," Barsad said. "Bane's been limiting his public appearances, which is not a good thing. An armed presence in the city isn't enough to keep the people in line. They're genuinely frightened of him. He's the bogeyman, so he should be showing himself every day to remind them of the stakes."

"I have noticed that he spends a lot of time in the sewers, brother. One day I found him there reading a book," Talia mused. "Do you think he's plotting something? I have long suspected that he is."

"Something's going on. As you've noticed, my guys are gossiping about his trips up here every night. It's not sitting well with them, considering that they have to discipline themselves from indulging in such behaviour."

Talia gently stroked Barsad's beard with her soft forefinger. "What do the men say about us, brother?"

"I don't think they know," he shrugged. "They'd say something if they did. I'm not gonna crush their windpipes like Bane would."

They turned their attention to the windows as Parker entered the living room. She had released her hair from its ponytail and it now tumbled down her back. She moved to the mirror, where she unbuttoned Christopher's flannel shirt to expose her naked shoulder.

"How obvious!" Talia scoffed. "It takes more than tossed hair and bare shoulders to seduce Bane."

"We'll see about that. There he is, right on time," Barsad smirked as Bane appeared.

Talia and Barsad watched silently as the two engaged in what was apparently polite conversation.

"That's strange," Talia observed cynically, "They usually tear off their clothes and go straight to the bedroom. Instead, they're talking."

"Good," Barsad said. "Then they're playing right into my hands."

"Where is my surprise, brother? I am an impatient woman."

For an answer Barsad pulled a small bluetooth speaker from his pocket and placed it on the lower ledge of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"I bugged Parker's place while she was out today. You wanna find out what he's up to? This is the way."

Talia's exquisite lips curled into a close-mouthed smile as her cat-like eyes sparkled like sapphires.

"I commend you for your initiative, brother," she cooed. "Be assured that you will be rewarded for this. I'll make all your dreams come true. For now, let us listen..."

********

"You've been gone for a few days," Parker said. "I suppose you've been busy?"

"Extremely," Bane lied.

There was an awkward silence during which Parker could tell by the gleam of uncertainty in his eyes that she had rattled him by suggesting that he wanted his rival.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're here. I want to talk to you."

"What I want has no need for talk," Bane replied hastily. He reached for the buttons of her shirt, eager to get on with it. Eager to prove to himself that he didn't want Talia.

"I wish you would not wear your husband's shirts. One might think you were carrying a torch for him."

Parker swatted his hands away and looked into his eyes.

"Bane," she pleaded. "I'm asking you again. Don't destroy Gotham. Just take your people and go. You've done enough damage. You've humbled the city."

Bane seemed surprised that she still hadn't reconciled herself to his plan.

"No, my dear. We have already discussed this at length. I must destroy Gotham. My blood must flow through the veins of the reborn city, and my superiors must finally see me for what I am. The true Demon Head."

Bane attempted to unfasten her buttons again, but Parker took hold of his rough hands.

"Then why do you want only one child?" She asked, her hazel eyes boring into his. "What if... what if you had three children?"

Intrigued, Bane frowned.

"Continue."

"Well, think of yourself as a tree with many roots. If you had three children, then they would all eventually have children, and their children would have children, and so on and so on. Each of them holding prominent positions in Gotham's corridors of power for generations. Your family tree would be far more extensive and influential than if you had just one child. That would truly be a living monument worthy of yourself."

The words spilled out, and one again Parker found herself promising Bane something she wasn't willing to give.

"And in return you wish me to save the city," Bane's breath laboured loudly from beneath the mask.

"Please. Why do you have to burn Gotham to the ground? Why can't you give it a chance to fix itself from within, with your family's influence?"

Bane threw off his coat as his chest swelled. For now, fierce pride and burning ambition had replaced the uncertainty in his dark chocolate eyes.

If he did what Parker asked, it would mean betraying Talia and the League, after which he would be hunted down, or at the very least, ex-communicated a second time. Still, the idea intrigued him.

"You would do this for me? Bear me more than one child? It would require a much longer association between us, and wear and tear on your body."

"I'm just trying to appeal to your better angels," Parker replied evasively. "That is, if you have any."

The buttons of Parker's shirt flew every which way as Bane growled and ripped it apart. "We shall speak about this later," he replied gruffly as he backed her into the bedroom.

For now he was about to prove something to himself. Prove that Talia had not become his sexual obsession...

********

At Bradbury Mansions, Talia blinked in disbelief and mild amusement.

"It seems I have underestimated my protector," she chuckled softly. "My, what grand ideas he has!"

"What's he gonna do with kids?" Barsad exclaimed, scratching his beard. "That's no life for him. It's not his calling."

"He wants what my father had, and what I will have once Gotham is ashes. But planting a living reminder of victory in Gotham is something I myself never visualized. His plan will give the League a permanent hold on the city. On that score he has soundly bested me," Talia admitted.

Privately, she was thrilled that Bane was apparently using Parker as merely a baby-maker, and hadn't fallen in love with her. She and Barsad had witnessed no declarations of affection between them, only sexual attraction. She now knew that she had to make a move before Bane made any decisions about his future.

As Barsad watched Bane and Parker retreat to the bedroom, Talia settled in deep thought and began to formulate a plan.

Parker wrapped a robe around her nudity as Bane emerged from the bathroom fully dressed. It was the first time he had preferred to dress himself in private.

"Ummm...that was quick," she observed, barely concealing her disappointment.

"I am a busy man," he grunted.

"So you said. You won't forget?"

"About what?" He demanded irritably as he shrugged into his coat.

She had never seen Bane distracted before, and it was a sight to behold. He avoided eye contact with her and couldn't wait to leave.

Parker frowned. "You said you would consider saving the city if I..."

"Of course! I will come to you with my decision in a few days."

With those terse words Bane abruptly left, slamming the suite door behind him.

Bewildered, Parker wandered over to the sectional and flopped herself down.

Up until then Bane had been an exquisite lover. A master of touch and timing, methodically cultivating her body until he brought her to an agonizing peak.

Tonight, that Bane had been missing in action. Instead, he was like an eager 17-year old, ramming his partially erect manhood into her with no finesse, and finishing well before she even got close.

Parker knew she had only herself to blame. She should never have speculated on his feelings for his rival, and she had no one to blame but herself if he decided against saving Gotham.

********

Following a sleepless night, Bane lay on his bunk in the sewers, wallowing in mortal shame of the performance issue he experienced the previous evening.

It was supposed to be an affliction that happened to other men - never to him. He had a strong sexual appetite since rejecting celibacy, and had never failed to follow through until Parker put ideas about Talia into his head.

Last night he had failed twice. He had failed as a lover, and he had failed to convince himself that he had no feelings for Talia.

How Parker must have laughed after he left. Gotham's reckoning humiliated by sexual inadequacy...

"My friend?" A soft voice broke into his thoughts and he leapt to his feet at the sight of Talia.

"Apologies, my dear," he rumbled. "I have not yet appeared at City Hall today. I shall go at once."

My friend. He couldn't remember the last time she had addressed him that way, and he realized how much he had missed it.

"No, don't go. That's not why I'm here."

It was then Bane noticed that she was not adorned in the designer clothing of Miranda Tate but rather as herself, in the League's full dress uniform of burgundy jacket, black velvet pants and boots. Her hair was styled in an elaborate braid down her back.

"I have come here to humbly ask your forgiveness," she said, still speaking softly.

"Forgiveness?" Bane repeated, somewhat astonished.

"I have not properly supported and defended you to the League, as I should have. You are correct in your grievances against me."

"I am pleased you see it my way," Bane replied cautiously, unsure as to whether he could trust her.

"May I sit down?"

"Of course!" Bane chirped.

Talia settled on the edge of Bane's bunk, and fingered the multi-coloured blanket spread over top the bed.

"There is more," she said, patting the empty space next to her. "Come sit by me."

Reluctantly, Bane sat as she began to stroke the rough knuckles of his right hand.

"We cannot continue this tension between us," she said in a near whisper. "It's not good for the mission, and it's not good for our relationship."

"Indeed," Bane nodded. The combination of her soft voice and gentle manner bewildered him. Again, it had been a long time since he'd experienced softness from her. She had grown very hard since the death of her father.

"I have thought a great deal about how we will go forward once we have destroyed Gotham, and I have decided that it will be in your favour, my friend. So, this is what I propose..."

Bane held his breath as Talia proceeded.

"You once told me that when you become Demon Head it will be because you earned it, not because I stepped down. So, when Gotham is ashes and we return to base, I will inform the League that thanks to all of your accomplishments, you are the true architect of Gotham's destruction. Your work in capturing Dr. Pavel, storming the Stock Exchange, blowing up the stadium, releasing the Blackgate prisoners and firing up the mob has been far more significant than my role could ever be. Without you there would be no defeat in Gotham. You have earned the right to Demon Head."

"Go on..." Bane's mask wheezed unsteadily as his groin tingled.

"My role is merely that of a vain socialite, with all the comforts of a populace we despise. Our brothers need no more proof. They are watching from afar. You are everywhere, Bane, and I am nowhere to be seen. You must be rewarded."

Talia paused for a moment, distracted again by the blanket that had belonged to her mother.

"We have come a long way with this blanket, haven't we, my friend?"

"Indeed," Bane responded, touched by her reminiscence. "There have been many ups and downs along our journey."

"There will be dissenters," Talia cautioned him, bringing herself back to order. "But I will ex-communicate brothers Mogo and Chen, because they are your most ardent foes in the League and have never accepted you. You will remember that it was they who cast the deciding votes to ex-communicate you."

"I do," Bane rumbled as the bitterness of that action briefly rose in his throat.

"I will then declare you Demon Head, after which you are free to clean house and promote more progressive elders as you see fit. Is this acceptable to you, my friend? We can witness Gotham's final destruction and then put it far, far behind us..."

Bane paused for a long moment before speaking. He had put in motion his plans for his living legacy in Gotham. How could he now just put it all behind him?

"I must ponder my decision," he replied hesitantly. He felt slightly intoxicated, and he needed a clearer head. "I would prefer that you not ex-communicate Mogo and Chen. If I agree to your plan, I should greatly enjoy being their superior."

"As you wish, my friend. Will you forgive me for my coldness toward you, and for failing to acknowledge your gifts to the League, and more importantly, to myself?"

Her words were like a balm to his troubled soul. Bane blinked as his manhood rose in his pants and Parker's words haunted him.

"You want her."

"Yes, by all means, my dear. We have never completed a mission on such a grand scale as this one. There are bound to be tensions."

"Thank you, my friend," Talia breathed. "Your forgiveness means everything to me."

Bane squeezed Talia's soft hand.

"You have it." He swallowed his emotion as Parker's words again whispered to him.

"In fact, you just might be in love with her."

"I have been with many men. You know that, Bane. But luring Bruce into my bed is something I will always regret."

"As per our plan it was your duty, although I completely understand your reluctance to share your body with him. I do not hold it against you."

Talia pulled her hand from Bane's grip, wincing as if she were disgusted with herself.

"How I wish I could wash the stain of him from my body." Her tone was both remorseful and desperate.

Bane rose from the bed, as his swollen member pushed against the fabric of his cargo pants. Staring into Talia's blue eyes, he forgot everything. He forgot that he had changed her nappies, and that she was sleeping with Barsad. He forgot about his living legacy, and his bedroom failure of the night before.

At that moment, all he remembered was Talia's boast to him.

"Unimaginable pleasures await you in my bed."

"Perhaps I can help," he croaked as he lifted Talia's leg and pulled off her boot.


	11. Chapter 11

At the end of a long day of cooking at St. Mark's, Parker heated a portion of a leftover steak and kidney pie that she'd brought home. It was a dish that the Reverends Coe and Woudstra had initially considered too extravagant for their outreach services, but they had long since given in and accepted Parker's generous charity.

As she left the kitchen to set a place for herself at the dining room table, she was startled to see Bane standing in her living room.

"You really should learn to knock," she said, angry at herself for appearing jumpy before him. "It's only good manners!"

"Good evening, my dear.," he rumbled, ignoring her protest as the tips of his fingers touched. "I will make this brief, as I see you are about to have dinner. I have news. Not the news you might have expected, although I think you will be pleased.

"Oh?" Parker's stomach clenched despite his assurances.

"I have come to inform you that I have released you from our bargain."

"What?" Parker blinked, stunned by his unexpected declaration. "W-why?"

"Because I am to assume leadership of the organization I serve once Gotham is destroyed, and I am destined to be the new Demon Head. You see, my rival and I have settled our differences."

Parker stared back at him for a long moment before finally making sense of his words.

"Meaning... you slept with her."

"We have reconciled," Bane replied, preferring to be discreet. "Buried the hatchet, so to speak."

"Well, that's certainly an appropriate analogy," she retorted sourly. "I assume you're going to build your living legacy with her instead?"

"That is no longer in the cards. What she has offered me is quite sufficient. When Gotham is ashes, we shall leave it far behind us," Bane replied. "Nothing left but a destroyed city and a mission accomplished. That is to be our legacy. My rival, who is also my superior officer, knows nothing of our bargain, but I suspect she would not approve of loose ends such as unwanted, illegitimate children. Upon reflection, I agree."

"I don't know what to say." Parker's voice was cold. "It's quite a different tune. You virtually changed your mind overnight."

"Perhaps," Bane conceded, "But you have been extremely vocal about not wanting a child. Even though you offered me three at our last meeting, I know it was out of desperation to save your city. You should be grateful that I have now freed you from a lifetime of parental drudgery."

Parker willed herself not to be upset. Why should she be? He was right. She should be relieved at the prospect of never having to bear a child, let alone his child. But now that meant the hope of convincing him to save the city was dashed.

"I've also come to realize that your concerns about my role as a father were well-founded. I now know that I cannot be a hands-on parent. Indeed, I shall have a notorious reputation in Gotham for many generations to come. Any child of mine would suffer greatly for having my name, and grow to hate me.

Bane moved closer to her and spoke lowly, as the intoxicating scent of leather and gunpowder enveloped her.

"Even if I had taken your proposition seriously and saved the city, it would have meant betraying my rival. I cannot do that. We have been through too much together. I will of course, honour the original terms we agreed upon. You are free to leave Gotham at any time. Come to me at City Hall when you are ready, and I will arrange for your safe passage."

"Fine." Parker said, forcing herself to turn away from him. "If there's nothing else, you can go now."

"You are dismissing me?" Bane's brow wrinkled with amusement as he took pleasure in her obvious distress.

"Yes, I'm dismissing you. There's nothing more to talk about, so please just go," she insisted as her voice shook.

"Very well," Bane agreed, smirking behind the mask.

"Bane!" Parker called hastily as the mercenary was about to disappear out the door.

"Yes, Parker?"

She swallowed hard, unsure as to why she had called out to him. And then she remembered her pride. She wasn't going to beg him for anything. After all, it was she who had pushed him into his rival's arms.

"It's...it's nothing. Good night."

Bane's dark chocolate eyes bore into hers, and then he was gone.

********

Across the alley at Bradbury Mansions, Talia breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well done, my protector," she praised softly, as she watched Bane exit Parker's penthouse. "That's the last of the Stepford wife." She pulled her coat over her shoulders and turned to find a stricken Barsad staring at her with accusing eyes.

"You...you fucked Bane?"

"I had to bring him under my control, brother. He has run wild in Gotham for far too long. There must be no more secret plans or trysts with socialites."

"But...but I thought you and I had something together! How can you go from my bed to his?" Talia's admission had struck him like Thor's hammer, and it floored him.

"I took no pleasure in seducing my protector, brother," she replied harshly. "I did what was necessary."

Barsad shook his head in disgust. "And I was a fucking idiot to believe you were capable of anything genuine."

"John Barsad, unless you were born in prison you cannot possibly understand what I am capable of," Talia hissed. "We are both adults, and you knew what you were getting into when you took me to your bed!"

"Are... are you gonna keep on fucking him? Because I won't be cuckolded!"

Talia chuckled softly as she stroked Barsad's beard. "A fancy word for such a down-to-earth ruffian like yourself. I like that."

"Don't," he said as he slapped her hand away. "You think I want you now after what I just heard?"

"It goes both ways, brother! I know all about your habit of fondling Gotham women and offering perks in return for sex!"

"But, that's just me acting out, Talia! Your sleeping around frustrates the hell out of me! First Dr. Velez, then Wayne and now Bane. When is it gonna end?"

"You know when it ends, brother," Talia replied calmly. She rarely saw Barsad's combative side, and she was determined to calm him.

"When Gotham is ashes, my father's work will be done and we will return to base. As you just heard Bane say, I will then hand over the Demon Head to him. I'm tired, brother. I don't want to be Demon Head anymore. You see, being with you has made me visualize a different future for myself."

"You're used to Miranda Tate's wealth and your own family fortune. I can't give you that kind of life," he fretted.

"We are both of us rich, brother. We have fields of daisies, balmy beaches, bicycling across the countryside. These things cost nothing, and we will be far away from the League of Shadows," she whispered hypnotically. "So swallow your silly male pride and allow me to contribute to the household expenses. No more hard choices, just you and I without a care in the world. This is our destiny, John, once we have destroyed this wretched city."

********

The sting of rejection smouldered inside Parker for days after Bane delivered his bombshell. He had released her from their bargain and had chosen to go with one offered by his rival instead.

Compounding the rejection was the anger she felt after she learned that the supplies for which she had paid a high premium had been hijacked by Bane's men.

She had first stumbled upon the source while standing in line at the vegetable market, when she was approached by a well-dressed young man who was working the line, asking people if they were willing to pay higher prices for an unlimited supply of quality groceries. Parker cautiously agreed and was led to a supply truck two blocks away from where other Gothamites were readily handing over indecent amounts of cash for quality bags of fresh fruit, vegetables and meat.

That source had dried up in the past several days when the truck failed to make its usual stops at the corner of Fifth Street and Grand Avenue, and Parker had begun to worry.

As usual, Selina Kyle had her eye on all suspicious activity in the area and informed Parker that Bane's men had been meeting the truck on the bridge and forcing the driver to go to City Hall, where the mercenaries confiscated the goods, loading them into City Hall kitchens.

After speaking to Selina, Parker went looking for the truck on one of its regular delivery days and spotted it a block away from City Hall. There she confronted the mercenaries unloading the truck. She recognized Dolan from the day she'd gone to City Hall to thank Bane for killing Christopher.

"Hey!" She shouted, peering up at him. He was standing in the back of the truck, gripping an open bottle of screw-top wine. "These are for the people of Gotham. You have no right to them. Your men have enough food, and some of the supplies belong to me. I paid for them in advance, which means you're stealing from me, too!"

"Hey!" Dolan mocked her tipsily. "Look guys," he belched. "'Member her from that day at City Hall? It's the battered wife. You cleaned up pretty good, lady, only I'd like it better if your nose was busted for good. Serves you right for talkin' back to your husband."

Something snapped inside, and Parker wrapped both hands around the drunken man's left ankle, causing him to lose his balance, fall from the truck and crash heavily into a crusty snowbank stained with dog urine. She stood over the fallen terrorist with clenched fists as he whimpered in pain.

"Serves you right for talking back to me," she panted. Storming away from the truck she found her way to the main steps of City Hall, and Barsad.

"Not so fast, Parker," Barsad cautioned as he stopped her from climbing the steps. "You don't go in there unless I say so."

"I need to see him and you're not going to stop me," Parker insisted as she tried to force her way past him.

"No, Parker. That's not the way it works. There's an admission fee."

Without hesitating Parker struck him hard across the face. "I know what your price is and you're not going to lay a finger on me ever again, you sexually harassing pig!"

Barsad's pride hurt as much as the slap. He was still stinging from Talia's infidelity, and was uncertain of how he wanted to go forward with her. Now he was embarrassed because several of his men had witnessed Parker's slap.

"Okay, have it your way," he conceded sternly. "But I'm right behind you, understand? Don't try anything," he warned as he poked his rifle into her back, forcing her upstairs. He needed to save face among the men, and hoped it would appear that he was still in charge of the situation.

********

Inside the mayor's office, Bane switched on television coverage of the occupation, but paid little attention to it. Instead, he was seated forward in the mayor's expensive leather desk chair, staring at the floor as he tried to make sense of what had happened between he and Talia.

He was pleased that there was a truce between them now, but he felt genuinely troubled. In his eyes, he had taken advantage of Talia's vulnerability. He had given her the burden of having slept with yet another man, when she had clearly expressed regret that she had been with so many.

It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed being with her. He had. He now had first-hand knowledge of the unimaginable pleasures she had promised, and yet they weren't enough to prevent him from feeling regretful. Thankfully he hadn't had the performance issues that he'd had with Parker after she claimed he was in love with Talia.

But what of Barsad, who said he wasn't in love with Talia? Bane didn't believe it, and keenly felt that he had betrayed his second-in-command.

The masked mercenary heaved a shivering metallic sigh and closed his eyes. A loud knock on the door eventually stirred him from his meditation.

"You have a visitor." Barsad called. "Parker wants to see you."

Bane rose slowly as his bones cracked.

"Come!"

As he hustled Parker into the expansive office, Barsad tried not to look Bane in the eye. His emotions were too close to the surface, and he was afraid of what he might do or say.

For his part, Bane also avoided his brother's gaze, instead focusing on Parker as Barsad made a hasty exit.

"Ah, I assume you are here to arrange your departure from the city, Parker."

"No, no. I'm not here about that," she huffed, "The supply truck that delivers to Fifth Street and Grand Avenue every Tuesday and Thursday? Your men have confiscated it. They wait for the truck to cross the bridge and they force it to park here, and then they steal everything for themselves."

Bane's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Indeed? How clever of them!"

"I pre-paid black market prices for many of the supplies on that truck. They're for St. Mark's Church, which is feeding the neighbourhood. Without those supplies people are reduced to eating white bread and processed cheese."

The light in Bane's eyes morphed into unfathomable darkness, as he remembered who he was and why he was in Gotham.

"It would not please you to hear what I often roasted for dinner while imprisoned in a pit for the first 18 years of my life," he croaked.

Parker swallowed hard as her knees weakened and her stomach churned.

"White bread and processed cheese would have been a luxury for myself and my fellow inmates."

"I didn't intend to bring up bad memories..." she murmured.

"No. Of course you didn't. You are privileged, and you know nothing of the injustices of the world. Your kind is shallow, vain and uncaring. Charity is all appearance rather than genuine vocation. You believe yourself to be one of the people because you cook for the less fortunate, yet it is certain that if we were to free the city tomorrow, you would never grace the doorstep of that church again."

Parker's eyes brimmed with tears as she digested Bane's blunt assessment of her.

"I see. Your men are stealing from starving citizens, and yet somehow I'm the villain."

Bane took the remote and switched off the flatscreen television.

"Very well," he said after a long silence. "The supply truck will continue to arrive at its original location with your pre-paid supplies. My men will not interfere with your... black market activities again. You have my word."

"Thank you," she said abruptly as she turned to leave, but Bane stopped her, gripping her arm as he forced her to look at him.

"How beautiful you are," he said as his brow furrowed with fascination.

He suddenly remembered that day at the court house when she had begged him to spare the lives of her unworthy socialite friends. It was the first time he had seen her since the injuries inflicted by her husband had healed, and he was caught unawares by the sight of her green-gold eyes and caramel coloured hair.

"My occupation has been good for you, my dear. When you first came to me you were a broken little bird, throwing yourself at my feet. Now you are healthy and strong, demanding justice with eyes full of fire."

He felt her shiver as his forefinger slid beneath her coat and flannel shirt, and stroked her warm bare shoulder.

"Parker," he whispered. "I regret that we cannot continue our association."

"And it's all your doing," she declared as she wrenched free of him. "Your loss."

Bane's member twitched in his pants as he watched her depart, and he was struck by the notion that the end of their bargain hadn't ended their desire for one another.


	12. Chapter 12

In the weeks since Bane terminated their bargain Parker attempted to push the experience into a corner of her mind where denial flourished, just as another shadow began to darken her door.

She had just left St. Mark's when she noticed a familiar-looking man waving at her at the intersection of Grand and Fifth Avenues. He was Eric Velez, the doctor who had treated her injuries when she first came to see Bane at City Hall.

"Dr. Velez! It's nice to see you again."

"Eric. Call me Eric," he insisted cheerfully. "You look well, Parker. I'm glad to see that your injuries have healed! I almost didn't recognize you. How have you been and what have you been up to all these weeks?"

"I'm doing fine. I volunteer at St. Mark's Church, cooking and serving. What about you? How are things at City Hall?"

"Well, the typical ER stuff. Bane's guys definitely get into their share of scrapes. Gunshot wounds, broken limbs and the like. I do an eight hour shift and I'm on call if needed. I take a couple of hours off in the afternoon to clear my head."

"Then don't let me keep you," Parker replied. "It sounds like a long day."

"Hey, I have an idea. Chubby's is open. Would you like to go for a coffee with me? I'm on my way there now."

"Uh, I don't think so, but thank you for the offer, Eric," she replied. "Maybe some other time."

"Oh, come on!" He protested, recognizing her reluctance. "I'm not asking you out on a date. We're just two people sharing war stories, okay?"

"Okay..." she shrugged.

********

It felt like the first day of spring inside the coffee shop Dr. Velez had frequented so often in the past. It had been closed for a few months since Bane declared martial law, but now people were beginning to take to the streets and resume their old habits.

Strangely enough, Bane allowed it to happen. He no longer cared if businesses opened or if citizens roamed the streets, as long as they were unarmed and didn't move in packs.

"Look at this place," Eric enthused from their tiny table near the front of the bustling shop. "You'd think Bane and his guys had never happened! Nobody here is worried about a potential bomb explosion."

"People are living for the moment," Parker observed soberly. "I can't blame them."

"Hey, um, I heard your husband turned up alive. Barsad was bragging all over City Hall that he grabbed him on his way up to your place, and about the accident that happened afterwards. Sorry to hear that. It must have been rough."

"It was. Bane and Barsad brought him up to the penthouse. Some very ugly words were exchanged between us, and then they took him away. Christopher died a violent and bloody death trying to escape. I flip-flop between thinking he got what he deserved and having compassion for him. I'm trying to make peace with the past, but it isn't easy."

"No it isn't," Eric agreed. "My wife took a job with the D.A.'s office in New York City after I cheated on her. I haven't seen the kids since. I don't know what came over me in the middle of the day with that woman in my examination room. It was like Miranda - uhh, it was like she put a hex on me. But I take full responsibility. I failed my wife and kids, I failed my patient, I failed my profession and I regret it every single moment of the day. I just hope that if or when we're free of this occupation, my wife will take me back."

Parker stared into her half empty cup. Eric had mentioned the name 'Miranda'.

How many women named 'Miranda' could there be in Gotham City who were also patients of a once high-profile gynaecologist?

When Bane first proposed his bargain, he'd mentioned that his rival was posing as an admired business executive and philanthropist who staged an annual ball.

Miranda Tate was the popular CEO of Wayne Enterprises who held an annual charity ball, one that Parker and Christopher had attended every year since their marriage.

Bane had also mentioned that his rival courted the attention of powerful men.

It was common gossip among Parker and her friends that Miranda had made a play for Bruce Wayne at her most recent charity ball.

Could Miranda Tate be a terrorist? Was she the woman who Bane claimed had come to Gotham to settle an old score? The prospect seemed so farfetched, and yet...

"A penny for your thoughts, Parker?"

"Oh, it's... it's nothing. You mentioned your wife's job. I was once a marketing executive, but Christopher felt threatened by my success. He wanted me to quit and devote myself full-time to charity, because he believed it would make him look good. I did so only because I thought it would stop the violence."

"Oh God, Parker. It obviously didn't improve things, based on your injuries."

"He wanted children, but I didn't want to raise a family in a toxic household. He found my secret stash of birth control pills the day Bane blew up the stadium. That's why he beat me up."

"Jesus," Eric winced. "Did you ever think about leaving him?"

"All the time. But I was an only child, and my family's pride and joy. Christopher and I grew up together, and my parents had us married by the time we were five years old. My father said it was the most successful merger he ever negotiated. I'm terrified of failure and scandal, and of disappointing them. There's never been a divorce is our family. Even when the parties are unhappy, we stick it out. And of course, I was afraid of him coming after me."

"Yea, but surely your family was aware that he beat you."

Parker nodded. "It was unspoken, but they knew. I saw the fear and helplessness in their eyes. I think they felt as paralyzed as I did. They're in Paris now and not able to contact me, of course."

The afternoon wore on until a line formed outside the coffee shop and they decided to give up their table.

"Thanks so much for asking me for coffee, Eric," Parker said as they left Chubby's. "I didn't realize how much I've missed simple pleasures."

"You're welcome," Eric replied as Parker staggered against him.

"Uhh...Eric, I don't think the lattes went down very well. Excuse me..."

She turned away from him and retched, bringing up two 12 ounce lattes and a slice of undigested lemon cake into the fresh snow.

"Whoa!" Eric said, rubbing her back as she composed herself. "What's this all about?"

His stare intimidated her. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't apologize. Let's get you home where you can lay down."

They walked in silence until Eric noticed that Parker was blinking back tears as her lip trembled.

"Do you need to talk?" He asked, in his best bed-side manner.

Parker wiped her tears with her coat sleeve. "I think I might be... I think I'm..."

Eric had heard enough.

"Pregnant? But you said you were on the pill."

"No. Not since Christopher disappeared."

"So you've had sex since your husband's death?"

"I know how awful that must sound. I'm supposed to be the grieving widow."

"Well, that part is none of my business. How late are you?"

"Three weeks and a bit," Parker shivered helplessly as twin tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Have you taken a home test?"

"Not yet. I keep hoping it's a false alarm. It could very well be, you know..."

"Okay, first things first. We're going to The Women's Clinic and confirm it either way. You need an answer right now."

"No, Eric, just give it a few days. I'm sure it's nothing."

Eric took her hand. "Let's go, Parker. The sooner you know, the better. This isn't the greatest time to be in your situation. We don't know what tomorrow's going to bring. Bane could be bluffing about the bomb, but based on the cruelty we've already seen from him, I doubt it."

********

"Have you met with her highness, lately?" Barsad called over the persistent sound of rushing waters. He had joined Bane in the sewers for an early morning briefing. "Just curious, because I haven't."

It had been two weeks since Barsad had last seen Talia, on the night she revealed she had slept with Bane. Although initially upset, Barsad was a forgiving soul, and had shrugged off the animosity he felt towards his commander. He reckoned no woman was worth sabotaging his friendship with Bane. Her sudden absence following their nightly trysts had led him to conclude that she was never sincere about wanting a life with him away from the League of Shadows.

As well, Talia had duped Bane into sleeping with her so that she could rein in his extra-curricular activities with Parker Ainsley-Wood and his plans for immortality. Barsad suspected that like himself, Talia had left Bane dangling in the wind.

Bane's answer confirmed Barsad's suspicions that she had kicked both men out of bed.

"Indeed, I have not." Bane replied curtly.

Talia had not returned since she had come to him in the sewers, and as the days passed his previous resentment towards her had returned. Like Barsad, the masked mercenary strongly suspected he'd been had.

As if by magic, the familiar sound of Miranda Tate's high heels perforated the steady cacophony of running water.

"Good morning, brothers," Talia greeted them. "I'm glad to find you together. It saves me the trouble of repeating myself."

Bane and Barsad stiffened at the sound of her ominous tone.

"I am well aware of a rash of shenanigans occurring amongst our senior ranks. I will not name names or cite incidences, but you both know what I'm referring to. An indulgence in pleasure has abounded from the dark corners of Gotham while we wait to take victory. Before you accuse me of hypocrisy, I want you to know that I include myself as one of the guilty parties. I too have behaved badly, as you both can attest. Again, I will not go into the sordid details.

If our behaviour were to become known to our brothers back at base, we would all suffer the consequences. So let us make a pact, my friends. From now on, there will be no more shenanigans. Not from me, nor from either of you. Is that clear?"

Bane and Barsad nodded their agreement as they briefly glanced at one another.

"Crystal clear, my dear." Bane warbled.

"Loud and clear, ma'm," Barsad agreed.

"Good," Talia nodded as her rigid countenance softened and she became Miranda Tate.

"Now I must return to Wayne Enterprises before Mr. Fox notices my absence. Goodbye, my friends."

They both watched as Talia left the lair and headed toward the ladder that lead the street.

"Since we're on the topic of shenanigans, I gotta get this off my chest," Barsad said, sounding relieved. "For what it's worth, I know you slept with her. She told me. And hey, it's okay."

Guilt washed over Bane like a hot flash. He would have done anything to prevent Barsad from knowing the truth. He knew that the sniper was in over his head, and quite possibly in love with Talia.

"That is very generous of you, brother," he rumbled, filled with sudden self-loathing. "I do not deserve your kindness."

"Don't sweat it, Bane," Barsad insisted. "She conned us, and now she's done with us. She's had a real sweet deal here in Gotham. Controlling boardrooms, living on champagne and caviar, fucking whoever she pleases. She's just as bad as the people we're trying to bring down. She even seduced Velez. You know that he lost his license for screwing a patient. Well, that patient was Miranda Tate."

Bane's brow furrowed deeply as he registered Barsad's claim.

"A serious lapse in judgment, uncharacteristic of a member of The League of Shadows let alone the Demon Head. Miranda Tate is supposed to be a lady. She does not destroy the livelihoods of men. For her to do so casts suspicion on her pristine reputation, and she puts us at risk."

Barsad nodded. "And now she's on her way back to Wayne Enterprises, to squeeze every ounce of worshipfulness out of that old timer, Lucius Fox. If she forgets who she really is and blows this whole operation, that failure will reflect on all of us. We can never show our faces at base again. They'll hunt us down."

"Take your men and patrol as scheduled," Bane ordered as his anger grew. "I will be here if needed. And brother, thank you for your loyalty," he added in a raspy whisper.

Bane's chest heaved with frustration even though he lay in a supine position on his cot, fists clenching and unclenching as he stared at the concrete ceiling.

He had tried meditation but his mind was too chaotic to cooperate.

Who was he to judge Talia for uncharacteristic behaviour? Had he not behaved in an uncharacteristic manner as well? He let his guard down and allowed himself to be dazzled by the power and beauty of a woman he had known her entire life.

She had always been cagey, but he had chosen to overlook that fact the night she crept into his lair with a sentimental heart, begging his forgiveness and promising him glory.

She had apparently abandoned both his and Barsad's beds, but still expected them to carry out their duties to the very end.

So much for the validation that he so desperately wanted from The League of Shadows' elders. He felt sure that Talia had no intention of following through with her promises. Both he and Barsad had truly become her errand boys, and she had made it so by sleeping with them.

Thanks to Talia's promises, he had released Parker from their bargain. If he had not done so, he would still have a chance at having a living legacy in Gotham - his 'vanity project', as Parker had so cynically referred to it.

But now it was too late. Talia had falsely promised him a place in the sun within the The League Shadows, and he had taken the bait.

He couldn't possibly approach Parker to ask her to reconsider. He would look like an indecisive fool. She would have every right to demand that he save the city in return, and this time he would be obligated to give in to her demand. And then he would have to betray Talia, something that up until then, he had never wanted.

********


End file.
